


Scenes from the Shore

by hidingupatreeorsomething



Series: On the Shore of the Wide World Series [5]
Category: Homeland
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-30 20:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 33,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidingupatreeorsomething/pseuds/hidingupatreeorsomething
Summary: NEW CHAPTER!Chapter 23 - A difficult change (Part I)A small shift in Quinn's health proves tough for Johnny to deal with.----New scenes from theOn the Shore of the Wide WorldAU, in which Quinn survived 6.12 and went to find Johnny & Julia. They take place at various times, dotted around the AU timeline. There's also a spin-off fic,Operation Babylinked in the middle of this, with the arrival of baby Katy. If you've not read the rest of the series, recap in notes. (tw - Chapter 12 contains discussion of Quinn & Dar's abusive relationship)





	1. Being quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Quick recap if you’ve not read the rest of the fics: Quinn survived the 6.12 shooting, Dar got him out of the CIA in secret and he persuaded Julia to let him move to Philadelphia and start learning to be a dad to Johnny. There were bumps in the road, but it’s gone OK. He becomes a good dad and moves into the house next door to Julia and Johnny when it becomes vacant. Even [tracks down his mother, Helen,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26606595) and is reunited with her. In time, he and Julia [become more than just good friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26952447). Eventually, [he moves in](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012986) and they become a family. They go on to [have a daughter, Katy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13168248) together.

_Quinn and Johnny, in a large park at the back of the house. They're there so that Johnny can ride his bike. Eventually he notices Quinn’s slowing down, stiffening up, limping a little more, and rides back to him._

JOHNNY – You OK?

QUINN – Yeah. Tired. I’m fine. You can ride.

JOHNNY – We should lie in the grass. Watch the clouds.

_Quinn looks at him. That was a little unexpected._

QUINN – What, here?

JOHNNY – The long grass over there. I do it sometimes. When I come over here with my friends and I’ve had enough of them. I lie in the grass and they can’t see me. You can hear all the insects. It’s warm. Wanna try?

_Quinn smiles at him. His little boy surprises him every day and he loves it._

QUINN –  I might not get up again.

JOHNNY – I’ll help you.

QUINN – Show me, then.

_Johnny gets off his bike and pushes it, walking alongside Quinn as they head off the path, across the trimmed grass, towards a patch of longer grass at the back of the park. Eventually, Johnny can’t hold back, runs ahead, drops his bike at the edge of the long grass, and runs into it, then drops to the floor and disappears._

_Quinn laughs._

QUINN – That’s pretty good. I can’t even see you.

_Johnny sits up again, grinning._

_Quinn starts to walk over to him. It’s tough getting through the long grass when his leg will hardly lift, he slows way down, one careful step at a time. Johnny realises, jumps up again and goes and stands next to him, Quinn leans on his shoulder like a cane and they move slowly forward. They reach the flattened grass where Johnny had dropped before._

QUINN – Here?

JOHNNY – Yeah.

_Quinn leans heavily on Johnny’s shoulder, drops to his right knee, his left leg stretched stiffly out. Winces._

JOHNNY – You OK?

QUINN – Sure. Hold on.

_He drops back onto his butt, heavily._

Gees.

_Johnny laughs. Just a little._

It’s a long way down.

_Quinn drags his legs around in front of him. Leans back on his elbow, then drops back to the ground, so he’s lying on his back._

_Johnny laughs and drops to his knees, either side of Quinn’s leg, so he’s sitting on his thigh._

JOHNNY – You did it.

_He drops forward so he’s lying on his front on Quinn’s chest. They hug a while._

QUINN – This is pretty cool. Lucky I don’t get hayfever. I’d be sneezing all over you right now.

_Johnny laughs. Quinn strokes his back._

It’s nice here. I like it. Thanks for showing me.

_They lie and listen to the insects, the breeze in the grass._

JOHNNY – I like being quiet sometimes.

_Quinn looks down at him._

QUINN – Me too. Me too.

JOHNNY – I like that you’re here. You’re like me.

QUINN – Two quiet dudes. Hanging out together. Pretty cool.

JOHNNY – I thought I was weird. That I like being quiet sometimes. But you do too.

QUINN – I was always quiet. It’s a good way to be. You can sneak up on people.

_He grins._

JOHNNY – Did you sneak up on people when you were a soldier?

_Quinn looks down at him again. Thinks a minute._

QUINN – Yeah. All the time. I was the best sneaker upper ever. I did a lot of secret stuff.

_Johnny props himself up on his elbows, on Quinn’s chest._

JOHNNY – What? What secret stuff?

QUINN – I can’t tell you. It’s secret.

_Johnny’s not sure what to make of that._

JOHNNY – Are you joking?

QUINN – No. I’m not. I did a lot of stuff that I can’t tell people about because it was secret then, and it still is now.

_Johnny drops down, hugs him again._

JOHNNY – I wish I knew what it was.

QUINN – Nothing exciting. Just grown up stuff.

_Johnny rolls off, lies on the grass next to him, their heads rest, touching together._

What do you want to do when you grow up?

_Johnny stretches his arms full length, points his fingers towards the sky, gun shaped._

JOHNNY – I wanna be a soldier like you. Peow! Peow!

QUINN – ( _Sounding a little serious but trying to hide the huge force of feeling that’s really behind this)_ No you don’t. Really. You don’t. It’s not a good life.

JOHNNY – It’s exciting.

QUINN – No. I mean, look at me. I couldn’t come and see you because I was a soldier. And then I got hurt. Badly hurt. It’s not exciting. You should do something where you get to choose what you can do, and see who you want to see, any time, where people don’t try to hurt you.

_Johnny stares at the sky for a bit._

JOHNNY – I wanna be an astronaut.

QUINN – That’s an option.

JOHNNY – Or a teacher.

_Quinn’s surprised. Looks round at him._

QUINN – A teacher? You’d like that?

JOHNNY – I like Mrs Denton. I could be like that. And she gets to sit on the sofa in the the staff room every lunchtime.

QUINN – Well, that’s not a bad idea. You’d be great as a teacher.

JOHNNY – Or maybe a farmer. Or I might be a stunt rider, on my bike.

QUINN – You can do whatever you want, Johnny. Anything.

JOHNNY – Are you going to get another job? Now you’re home with us?

_Quinn frowns to himself. Thinks._

QUINN – I… it’s hard for me to work now.

JOHNNY – Because you’re hurt?

QUINN – Yeah. I mean.. people work with disabilities, it’s not impossible. But I have my bad dreams, and I have seizures, and pain, it’s all... hard to predict. I don’t know what days I’m gonna be sick and have to stay home. So it’s hard to work with all those things. Anyway, I like looking after you. And when I stopped being a soldier, I got some money. So I don’t need to work right now.

JOHNNY – You’re a man of leisure.

_Quinn laughs._

QUINN – Where did you hear that?

JOHNNY – Mrs Denton. We had to write about what wanted to be and she said she wanted to be a lady of leisure.

QUINN – Well, Mrs Denton sounds like she has her head screwed on the right way.

JOHNNY – I like her.

QUINN – Good. I’m glad you like school. It’s important.

JOHNNY – Did you go to school?

QUINN – Yeah. Course.

JOHNNY – Did you like it?

QUINN – No. I didn’t like much when I was a kid. My life was kind of tough. Not like yours.

_Johnny thinks about that for a moment. Rolls on his side and wraps his arm round Quinn’s chest, hugs him. Rests his head on Quinn’s shoulder._

JOHNNY – It’s all right now, though.

QUINN – Yeah. It’s great now.

_Quinn places his arm around Johnny, and they lie there a while, in the grass, being quiet._


	2. Being normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure this probably takes place not too long after Quinn has [moved in next door](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26492433) to Julia and Johnny, a while before he and Julia start to take [those first steps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26952447) towards becoming a couple again. Co-parents? Friends? Working out exactly what they are to each other, still.

_Quinn’s house. He’s just woken up, is lying in bed. Left side feels stiff. Pain not at its worst, but definitely there. Eases himself into a sitting position, leans against the pillows and catches his breath. This is the difficulty of his life now. Dramatic flashbacks, seizures, yes – all hard to deal with. But also the slow grind of everyday pain and discomfort. Going to bed never quite sure how he’ll feel when he wakes up, starting every day with an inventory of his physical state, about once a week having to seriously decide whether he’s fit to take Johnny to school. Sometimes thinks he’s not, but once he’s up, walked around a little, had a hot shower, the tension in his muscles eases enough to get going._

_By the bed is a walking cane. Depending on his mood, it’s either his worst enemy or his best friend._ _At the moment, he uses it around the house first thing, most days, until he’s warmed up._ _A tripod cane, with three feet - makes it more stable to lean on and means he can let go of it without it falling over, free up his good hand to do stuff without having to find somewhere to lean the cane._

_It was given him by the hospital when he was still at the apartment. One day his pain and immobility had been bad enough that he’d called Julia and Carmen, say he couldn’t pick up Johnny, then phoned the hospital to cancel his physio appointment, sure he wouldn’t even manage to walk from the hospital entrance to the rehab department._

_They offered to send transport to collect him, and when he said no, insisted on making a home visit. Reminded him that his pain was in danger of being the start of a cascade of symptoms – tired, overwhelmed, missing meds, having a seizure, and so on._

_So his physio came round and saw him at his worst. Arranged for a health visitor to drop in twice a day for a few days to make sure he was taking meds, eating, and came by herself every couple of days to massage, stretch, try and minimise the pain if she could. She’d brought the cane on her second visit to help him get around the apartment, asked if he needed to be shown how to walk with it – sadly not, he’d spent a long time using one at the VA._

_His heart had sunk, thought this was the beginning of his disability worsening, but after she’d gone, he’d used it to get to the bathroom and remembered with relief how much more stable he felt on three legs than two. Eased the pressure off his painful left side, made everything smoother and less of a strain. And so he’d kept it._

_The pain eventually receeded and he shoved it into the hall closet with relief. Didn’t use it for a long time. When he moved to the house, put it in the back of the wardrobe, out of sight, ready for the next time things were bad. Then, one night he’d got up to go to the bathroom, tripped, fallen – landed, thankfully, on the bed, but had frightened himself._

_So started to keep it by the bed. Made himself use it if he got up at night, bleary-eyed and wobbly, so he could make it safely to the bathroom and back. And when he’s feeling rough, he uses it first thing too. Recently, he's been on another of his occasional downswings, and it’s become a regular accompaniment to his morning routine._

_So far he’s always left it behind when he goes out the front door, but the past few days he’s been particularly stiff, every day he looks at it as he leaves it behind, wondering if he should keep a hold of it, take it down the road with him. He’s getting slower as he walks – his left side feeling more than ever like an immobile weight he has to drag around with him, every step requiring thought and determination, an intense concentration on his balance. Johnny’s patient, but yesterday they only just made it in time.  
_

_He gets up, grabs the cane, leans heavily on it, makes his way slowly to the bathroom._

\----

_Drains his coffee cup. Stands and goes to put it on the counter and almost trips over his left foot - his dropfoot causes his toes to drag on the floor, his foot fails to swing forward, he stumbles, has to grab the kitchen counter to stop himself faceplanting._

_Swears under his breath. Not good. Stares at the cane. It’s either call Julia and stay home, or swallow his pride and take the fucking thing with him, admit to the outside world he needs help to walk right now. Suddenly recalls Julia, reading him the script, back in the hospital near the cabin. What you want comes way down the list now. Suck it up and be a good father. Remembers the physio’s reassurance that this will come and go, just because he needs it now, doesn’t mean it’s forever. A week, maybe two, he can probably leave it back by the bed. But not today. Says “Fuck you” aloud to the cane to mark his resistance and irritation, but wraps his fingers around it, places his weight on the handle, and makes his way across the kitchen. Out the door, carefully down the front steps and round to Julia’s. Knocks on the door and goes in._

JULIA – Morning.

QUINN – Hey.

_She appears in the kitchen doorway, shouts upstairs._

JULIA – Johnny! Dad’s here!

 _Looks back down at the cane._

You OK? 

_He shrugs._

QUINN – Kind of stiff. Nearly fell over in the kitchen. I figured… if I need it…

_She walks over and places a hand on his arm. Wants to comfort him, but knows better than to make a fuss._

JULIA – Sure. You take care, OK?

QUINN – Yeah. It’s fine.

_She shouts again_

JULIA – Johnny! It’s time to go!

_Johnny comes thundering down the stairs._

JOHNNY – Hey, Dad.

QUINN – Hey. You ready?

JOHNNY – Mom, where’s my book bag?

JULIA – Well, where did you put it? In the kitchen?

_He runs into the kitchen, comes out with his bag, Julia hands him his coat, kisses him goodbye. Father and son bustle out the door. As they start down the path…_

JOHNNY – You got a cane?

QUINN – Yeah.

JOHNNY – Why?

QUINN – My leg’s not working very well. That’s why I’ve been walking so slow. Figured I should use this, or we’ll be late.

 _Johnny looks at it, places his hand on it._

JOHNNY – Can I have a go?

QUINN – No, I need it.

JOHNNY – Where’d you get it?

QUINN – Hospital gave it to me. Had it a while. Don’t use it much, but I need it right now.

_Johnny looks at it for another moment, then nods._

JOHNNY – OK.

_He runs off down the sidewalk, conversation over._

_Quinn feels himself a relax a touch. First hurdle over. Resists the temptation to stare at his feet, looks up after Johnny, feels his body drop into a new rhythm, tries to balance his weight evenly so his arm doesn’t end up hurting from the extra work. Breathes. Feels OK. Much steadier than he’s been recently without it._

_They turn the corner into the street where the school lies; crowds as ever outside. Feels intensely self-conscious but keeps going, concentrating on the rhythm, an eye on Johnny, who reaches the gate and stops to wait while Quinn catches up._

QUINN – OK – have a good day, you have soccer practice later, right?

JOHNNY – Yup.

QUINN – I’ll see you after that.

JOHNNY – OK – bye dad…

_He runs off and is gone._

_Quinn manoeuvres himself gingerly round, turning on the spot, trying not to put the cane on everyone’s feet - there are kids richocheting around everywhere, one of them bumps into the cane and his mom yanks him out of the way, tells him to watch where he’s going, apologises to Quinn, and they both move away - he stands still where he is, feeling himself blush, overwhelmed by the crowds, not sure where to put his feet and his cane, how to get out of the maelstrom without tripping or tangling up with someone. Waits for the crowd to thin a moment and inches forward, leaning more heavily on the cane, taking small steps, working his way out of the busiest part of the street, until he’s back out on clear paving, concentrating hard, can’t find himself a rhythm so pauses for breath, then struggles to the end of the street, round the corner, and sees a brick wall, thigh height, running along the side of the road – thank God._

_Turns and sits on it. Fucking hell. That was hard. Feels like throwing the cane over the wall and leaving it behind, but reflects that actually the school gate is always hellish – and in his current state, the clumsy kid would probably have knocked him right off his feet if he hadn’t had it. Sits a while and enjoys the sun, waits for his pulse to drop back down. Breathes. It occurs to him how glad he is to have something to get up for every morning. Feels sudden gratitude that Julia took the leap of faith, let him in, trusted him enough to take Johnny to school every day. If it weren't for that simple, routine duty, he'd still be lying in bed, listening to the pain and cursing his life.  
_

_Eventually stands, grasps the cane, and makes his way back down the street towards home._

\----

_When he gets home, Julia’s car’s still there, must be on a mid-morning shift. He looks at the house, thinking for a moment, wondering whether to go in and talk to her. He brushed her off so abruptly that morning and knows she was just concerned._

_Then he realises, she’s standing in the window, looking out as she puts her hair back in a pony tail, looking at him and wondering why he’s stopped in the driveway._

_She waves, he’s a little embarrassed but raises his hand. She opens the window._

JULIA – You wanna coffee?

QUINN – Sure. Thanks. 

_He turns and makes his way up to her front door._

\---

_She’s pulling mugs out of the cupboard as he walks in._

JULIA – Hey. Everything OK?

QUINN – Yeah. Fine. 

_He sits on a stool. Stares at the cane_

Fine.

Sorry I… ah

I’m sorry I kind of shut you up earlier.

_He taps the cane._

About this.

JULIA – Oh. That’s OK. You don’t have to tell me every single thing you got going on. As long as you’re OK.

QUINN – Yeah. Just... don’t wanna fall over. Been kind of stiff lately. But this helps.

JULIA – Good. Good idea to use it.

_She hands him his coffee, turns round to put away some dishes. She’s not going to fuss, not going to push him into discussing it at all, but he’s surprisingly pertistent._

QUINN – It’s kind of weird. Having it down at the school with me. People seeing me walk with it.

_She finally stops, realises he really wants to talk about this. Leans on the counter facing him._

JULIA – What kind of weird? Did somebody say something? Stare at you?

QUINN – No. No I guess not. I just feel weird.

JULIA – Does it help, though?

QUINN – Yeah. Really does. I just feel like… I dunno… it’s not like I’m an old man. Feel like people will think I’m putting it on or something. Drama Queen. I dunno, that sounds stupid.

JULIA – No, I know what you mean. You just feel conspicuous. But they’ve seen you before, right? Seen you walking usually, know it’s a little difficult for you. They’re not gonna be surprised. If you act like it’s normal, they will too.

_He nods thoughtfully, sips his coffee._

JULIA – D’you talk to the other parents when you’re down there?

_He looks down a little shyly._

QUINN – No. No, I…

_He shrugs._

I dunno. What would I say?

_She’s touched. She doesn’t think of him as shy. But he was never exactly outgoing. And since the stroke… he’s just not the super-confident guy he once was. And of course, he’s spent his whole life around spies. Not exactly used to normal people._

JULIA – Just say hi?

QUINN – I guess.

JULIA – Say something about the kids. About the weather. The school. It’s really not about what you say, just about saying something.

_He just stares down at the counter. Feels like an idiot._

Are there other dads down there? Or just moms?

QUINN – Mostly moms. That guy from across the street sometimes.

JULIA – Steve? Louis’s dad? He’s a good guy, you should say hi to him.

QUINN – Yeah. Maybe.

_He stares into his coffee glumly. Knocks it back._

I should go. 

JULIA – Sure.

QUINN – Thanks for the coffee.

_He gets up and walks away, still looking glum._

JULIA – Johnny.

_He looks up._

You don’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to. You’re doing absolutely fine. Whatever works for you.

Don’t give yourself a hard time.

 _Gives her a small smile. Christ, he must wear his heart on his sleeve now. Or maybe she just always saw right through him. It’s no bad thing._

QUINN - Thanks.

\----

_Next day. School gates. He has, for now, pretty much forgotten his forlorn conversation with Julia, he’s just concentrating, again, on staying upright amidst the all the kids. Waves Johnny off through the gates, stands there watching him go, hoping the crowd will disperse. Realises there’s a guy stood next to him waving at a child running after Johnny. Looks round, it’s Steve._

_Steve smiles._

STEVE – Hey.

_Quinn nods.  
_

_Smiles._

_Tries to remember a word. Any word._

QUINN – Hey.

STEVE – Johnny’s dad, isn’t it?

QUINN – Yeah. Hi. Ah – also Johnny.

STEVE – Steve.

QUINN – Yeah. Hi.

STEVE – It’s chaos isn’t it?

QUINN – Yeah. Yeah. Think I might just stand here til they’re all gone.

_Steve laughs._

STEVE – That’s not a bad idea. You might be here all morning though - never seems to get any quieter!

QUINN – Yeah.

_Steve smiles again, they look at the boys racing round the playground._

STEVE – Well, I think they’ve forgotten us already. I should shoot. Good meet you.

QUINN – Y-you too. Steve.

_Steve turns, walks away to his car – must be heading to work._

_Quinn exhales. Fuck. Small talk is hard. Used to be able to turn it on like a tap for work, charm people he needed to charm, but never enjoyed it in real life and now with the aphasia it feels like climbing a fucking mountain._

_But that seemed to go OK. Thinks he might have got away with it. Seemed normal._

_Has always told himself he didn’t really care about this shit for his own sake. That he only wanted to seem normal - at least a **bit** normal - for Johnny’s sake. And that was why he was self-conscious about the cane – not wanting Johnny to stand out from the crowd because of his dad.  
_

_But, watching everyone coming and going from the school gate, apparently carefree and absorbed in their daily routines, realises he wants it for himself too. To fit in. Just be like all the normal people._

_That’s a first_

_And wonders whether maybe fitting in has less to do with canes, and limping, and all that crap he thought made him weird, and more to do with learning to behave like a normal human being. Not like an asocial assassin. Being able to say hello. Maybe if he can do that OK, it won’t matter about his left side dragging along beside him every step. About the cane. All that shit._

_Takes a deep breath. The crowds are dying down. Turns carefully around, and makes his way up the sidewalk towards home._

 


	3. Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a chance to learn more about Helen, but it turned into more of an exploration of Quinn and Julia’s backstory - sorry, Helen! Another park scene, a bit soon after the last, but it just fits nicely here. Takes place, obviously, after Quinn has [tracked down his mother](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26606595) Helen, and [met her face to face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26780886) for the first time since he was just three days old. And after [Quinn and Julia get back together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/26952447). Oh, and in Chapter 4, we'll go all flashback, and get to see that time Julia visited Quinn in the hospital...

_In the park. Helen’s come to stay for the weekend. Julia and Helen are sitting on a bench, watching Johnny and Quinn play ball – Quinn can’t really run after it, but his throw’s not bad, and Johnny does enough running for them both. Johnny doesn’t treat his dad with any delicacy or fear, is happy to run into him and tackle him – as they roughhouse, Quinn places his hand on Johnny’s forehead, pushes him out to arm’s length, and they start to laugh as he tries to run anyway, his arms windmilling. They collapse in giggles, half hugging, half wrestling._

_Julia and Helen laugh too._

HELEN - He’s a natural.

JULIA – Well, he’s getting there. It took a while. But yeah. I think all the focus he used to put into the job, he puts into Johnny now. Being a good dad. I’m not sure he’s a natural, but he _really_ works at it. Given everything he’s up against, he’s great.

HELEN – It’s hard to comprehend all he’s been through. I find myself forgetting, and then I suddenly remember and don’t quite know how to deal with it. 

JULIA – Same for me. I sometimes just try not to think about it, but then it seems unfair to him to do that. I mean, he doesn’t talk about it all the time, but he’s still living with it. The anxiety and the panic attacks, the paralysis, seizures. It’s all very real. We _have_ to deal with it, at least sometimes.

HELEN – Can I ask… did you see him in the hospital? After the attack?

_She nods, slowly._

JULIA – Yeah. Awful. Really awful. He was… 

_She doesn’t know how to put it into words._

He couldn’t walk, could barely talk. Nurses had to help him wash, dress, everything. Couldn’t do anything much for himself. He was in despair, I think. It’s incredible how far he’s come.

HELEN – It’s quite a journey. But how wonderful that he’s back in your lives, after things were so bad back then. 

JULIA – You know, when he was in the news again, when the shooting happened, I thought... Jesus. I’m so glad Johnny doesn’t know him. What kind of life would that be, what would that do to a child to see his dad nearly murdered, twice over, on the TV? It’s just insane.

But a few months after that, he called me. And I suddenly thought… you know what? What if this is the last chance Johnny has to meet him? If he’s living this crazy life, he’s gonna end up dead sooner rather than later, how do I explain to Johnny one day that I refused to let him ever have the experience of looking his father in the eye? Even if it did mean he had to grieve him later. It felt like an impossible choice I had to make. But… they’re so similar. I just started to feel like maybe it wouldn’t be fair for Johnny to never have met his dad… never seen where he got so much of himself from.

Then when he said he was out, had left the CIA, too badly injured to go back in, I figured… well, maybe now we’ve got a window. Who knows what’s gonna happen next – I mean, he was out when the shooting happened and that still didn’t keep him safe. But I decided I had to give them a chance to spend some time together.

And when he came to see us, he was different.

HELEN - Really?

JULIA – I think he’d decided. This whole thing about getting out, Peter Quinn being dead, cutting ties with the past - I think it gave him an extra breath of wind in his sails. Just one more, and he had to work out what to do with it. Once he’d decided he wanted to get to know Johnny, that kept him going.

HELEN - What was he like? Before? Very different?

_Julia thinks long and hard._

JULIA – Yeah. No. Yeah. I mean, he killed people, so yeah. Very focussed, very closed off. I mean, you could tell he was vulnerable. Turned up at the playpark once, long after we finished, to tell me about something that happened, that had upset him. He was in tears, said he had noone else to talk to. That was typical - every now and then he’d just crack right open and let you see all the way inside.

But most of the time he could just switch that off. When I got pregnant with Johnny, he was over the moon, really happy. But I think he got scared as it got closer. Thought he was gonna get trapped, didn’t know how to deal with being in a family. So he accepted a mission. When I was six months gone. Didn’t ask me, I just came home one day and he was packing a bag, said he was going away, would be back before the baby arrived. He thought he’d go in, do the job, come back to me. But that was it, as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t spend years sitting at home alone with a child while he came and went, always wondering if he’d been blown up in the desert. So I told him if he left, not to come back. He went. 

HELEN - Oh, my goodness.

JULIA – So, that’s what he was like before.

Weird thing is, he always wrote, though.

HELEN - Letters?

JULIA – Beautiful letters. I have no idea how he got them out of some of the hellholes he was in. But he used to write these incredible descriptions of the towns and villages – never the violence, but the place beneath. He’d ask how Johnny was, ask me for photos. He was never very open face to face, but somehow when it came to writing stuff down, he could do it. Even when he was in the hospital, when he could hardly speak, he wrote me a letter. It was jumbled, odd English, but it was so honest, it took my breath away.

HELEN - His letters to me were beautiful.

JULIA – Yeah.

HELEN - You helped him with them?

JULIA – A little. Most of it was there already. The heart of it was.

It must have been very emotional for you.

_She looks round, Helen has tears in her eyes._

HELEN - Actually, I’ve struggled terribly.

_Julia is surprised and moved._

JULIA – Really?

HELEN - I haven’t told Johnny. He has enough to deal with. But… the _guilt_. I’ve always felt it, but the thought he’d had a good life was what I relied on. That he’d had a family, been happy, it was all for the best. Finding out his life has been such hell…

_She can’t finish the sentence._

JULIA – Oh, Helen.

You know… one thing with Johnny, he doesn’t have a vindictive bone in his body. I mean, it baffles me more every day how he ever worked for the CIA. I guess he’s changed. But he was always… he always took responsibility for everything that happened to him. It wouldn’t even have occurred to him to blame you. To even think it could have been another way, or that you did anything wrong.

HELEN - He’s a very special boy.

_Julia smiles to hear him described as a boy. She takes Helen’s hand as they watch him play with his son._

JULIA – He is. He really is.

\---- 

_They’re walking back home. Julia and Quinn holding hands, strolling slowly, Helen and Johnny out in front._

HELEN – So Johnny, your mom told me you play little league?

JOHNNY – Yeah. We play up there.

 _He points to the far end of the park._

HELEN – Well, that’s great. Do you like it?

JOHNNY – Yeah. My team’s awesome. We’re called the Sunbirds. Our senior team won the league last year.

HELEN – That’s wonderful. I’d love to come watch you play some time.

JOHNNY – I’m not always very good though. Sometimes I miss the ball.

HELEN – Well, that’s OK. It’s sport, it’s always full of surprises - if we knew what was going to happen every time, there’d be no point in playing, would there?

JOHNNY – I guess.

_They walk a little more._

JOHNNY – Helen, you’re my dad’s mom, right?

HELEN – Yes, that’s right.

JOHNNY – Does that mean you’re my grammy?

_Helen beams from ear to ear._

HELEN – Well, yes. I am. And you’re my grandson. We just took a little while to find each other.

_He looks up at her and grins from ear to ear too, then goes a little shy and looks back at the path, still smiling._

HELEN – Is that OK?

_He nods vigorously. Without looking round at her, reaches out, and holds her hand._


	4. The visit

_A look back._

_Not long after Quinn arrived at the VA from Berlin, still largely dependent on those around him, he wrote to Julia. Speaking aloud was still a struggle, but he found that, as had always been the case for him, by putting pen to paper, the words came more easily. Still not perfect, still jumbled, but more smoothly than out loud. It took time, his handwriting was a mess, and his hand tired easily, but at last, he had a way to pour out some of the pain he’d been drowning in and unable to express._

 

Julia  
It’s a long time since you heard from me, or I heard from you. Bad stuff happened, and I’m in the hospital a long time. You might know, someone told me it was on TV, I don’t know. I’m in the VA in Brooklyn. I don’t know when I’ll get out. I had a bad stroke and nothing works like it used to sorry if this is written wrong my words are harder now and my brain is damaged. I know you don’t want me in your life much now but everything is so fucking bad and I miss you some days, you always listened when I need it. I think about Johnny a lot and I hope he’s OK. I look at his photos. If you have any more, I’ll put the address on here, it would be good to see how he is now. It’s so bad in here they try to teach me to walk again like a stupid fucking baby and I can’t even move half my body I feel like a piece of shit. I don’t know when I’m going to have a seizure and Jesus it scares me so fucking much when it happens, I can’t stop it I hit the floor and lose it in front of everyone watching like a freak. I’m there and my body’s ripping apart and I can’t hold on to it. There’s a lot of drugs they give me and I’m still broken so much I don’t know how to go forward. I don’t think you’d even know me. It hurts every day and I don’t sleep at night because the fear is so much.  
Sorry this letter is so dark, I can’t tell other people. I hope you’re happy.  
Johnny

 

Dear Johnny  
Oh, my love. I did see it on TV and it was unbearable, especially as I didn’t know what happened to you afterwards, didn’t know how to find out, even. Carrie reached out to me in May, told me you were alive but sick, but I didn’t know what that meant, really. So when I got your letter I was relieved to hear from you. But my heart breaks to hear how hard everything is. You’re a strong man, and a brave man, and I know you can get through this, but I can’t imagine how tough it is to learn to walk again, to have seizures, and to be so scared at night. Is there really nobody there you can talk to, who can comfort you?  
You know, don’t you, that when I said I didn’t want you in my life, it was to protect Johnny from being hurt when you came and went. I still care about you, and I always will. I’m with Roger now, and we have a life together, but I still care. If it would help, I’ll come visit you. Would that be better or worse? Tell me and I’ll do whatever will help.  
Here are two photos of Johnny. He’s doing really well. He’s been learning to swim at the Y, and loves his bike, and writing stories and painting. Sometimes he’s kind of a serious child, quiet, and thoughtful, and I look at him and think how different he is from me, then I remember he’s your son, and – well, you would really _know_ him as a person if you met him. You’re very alike.  
Tell me if you want me to visit, and I’ll come.  
Love, Julia

 

Julia – Please come visit me. If you can, you have the address and you can come any time, no visiting hours it’s not a regular hospital, people live here a long time like me so you can visit any time. I lived here so long now I sometimes wonder if I’ll always live here I don’t know what they’ll do with me. The pictures of Johnny make me happy when I look at them, they’re the only thing right now it’s all so dark. I know you can’t bring him here to see me but sometimes I imagine you do and I get to see him and that would be so good. But I know you can’t. Come any time.  
Love from Johnny

\----

_The VA. Julia steps out of the elevator, looks round to get her bearings, sees the sign for Quinn’s ward and walks to the counter._

JULIA – Hi – I’m here to see, er, Peter Quinn. 

RECEPTIONIST – Oh, OK _(she calls over to a nurse who’s passing)_ Janice, do you know where Peter Quinn is?

JANICE – Yeah, he’s in the day room, I took him in a half hour ago. Shall I show you?

JULIA – Thanks.

_They walk._

JANICE - It’s nice that you’re here, he doesn’t get many visitors. Carrie’s in every day, but he’ll be glad to see another face.

 _Julia smiles nervously. She’s really on edge._

_Janice pushes open double doors leading off the corridor. It’s a large, institutional lounge room, windows along one side. A TV blares in the corner though nobody’s watching it, there’s a book shelf, a pool table. Nobody’s in there except, sitting in a wheelchair by the window, Quinn. He’s motionless, just staring blankly out of the window. Janice walks across_.

JANICE - Peter?

_He looks up with a start._

JANICE - You’ve got a visitor.

 _He looks round, face expressionless. Julia walks towards him. It takes a minute for him to work out what’s happening. Then his whole face melts into a smile._

QUINN – Y-y-you came.

_She reaches him. Can’t speak for a moment, she’s so shocked but battling not to show it. Had no idea what to expect, but… he looks **so** different. Sounds so different. Even the light in his eyes is different - the knowing twinkle now erased, an uncanny, childlike openness in its place. She leans in, touches his shoulder lightly and kisses him on the cheek._

JULIA – Hey.

_Janice brings over a chair for Julia, places it by Quinn. Goes over, puts off the TV._

JANICE – I’ll give you some peace and quiet.

_She leaves._

_Julia sits. Staring him in the face, she can’t bring herself to look down at the rest of him, slumped in the wheelchair, so passive and unlike his usual wiry, edgy self. He gazes back. Eventually..._

QUINN - Pretty f-f-fucked, huh?

JULIA - I’m sorry Johnny, this is… I’m sorry. How are you?

_He shrugs._

JULIA - Are you… Are things… I mean.. are you getting better? Are they helping?

QUINN - I was w-w-worse. Before. Can sit in this now _(he taps the arm of the chair),_ talk more. But this ( _he picks up his left hand and drops it again)_ don’t work, and my leg. I’m b-b-brain damaged, Ju. Fucked.

JULIA – You’re getting physio, speech therapy, all that?

QUINN - Yeah.

_He shrugs._

_A moment of silence._

_Suddenly Julia can’t hold it in. A small sob, a tear, escape._

JULIA - Oh Johnny, I’m sorry.

QUINN - Don’t…

JULIA - I just… I can’t believe what they did to you.

_She’s set him off – suddenly his face splits in distress, he tries to hold it together but he’s choking back tears too._

QUINN - My life’s over Julia. 

JULIA - Don’t say that.

QUINN - Look at me. Can’t do anything. Just sit. F-f-fucking vegetable then nightmares and screaming and seizures and I can’t w-walk. Always in a wheelchair.

JULIA - You’ll get better.

_He shakes his head._

Don’t give up. If they’re still prepared to help you, they think you can get better. You have to try.

_He stares at the floor. So miserable._

_She goes to a nearby table, picks up a box of tissues, brings it back, dabs at her own face, hands him a tissue to do the same, which he does, clumsily._

_They look at each other for a sad moment. Then Julia remembers._

JULIA - Look. I brought you something.

_She reaches into her bag and brings out her phone. Moves her chair to sit next to him. She brings up a video on the phone, holds it up._

I told him I was going to visit a friend in the hospital. I told you he likes drawing, right? Look.

_She presses play. On the screen, Johnny is sitting at the kitchen table with paper and paints around him, looking at the camera, a little paint smeared on his face._

JULIA - _(on screen, from behind the camera)_ \- OK, you ready?

_He nods._

Go on then, hold it up, I’m filming.

_He holds up a piece of paper, covered in paintings and drawings, that says **Get Well Soon Johnny, love from Johnny.**_

JOHNNY - Get well soon, Johnny, my mom said you’re sick and you have the same name as me. I hope… _(he glances off camera to Julia, trying to remember his lines, then back to the camera)_ I hope you get out of the hospital soon.

_He sits and stares at the camera for a minute._

_The video ends._

_Quinn stares at the screen, his eyes brimming over again, but for a different reason this time. He grins as the tears run freely down his cheeks. He reaches for the phone hurriedly and tries to replay it but he’s fumbling._

JULIA - Here.

_She replays it for him, they watch again._

_As soon as it finishes he reaches out for the phone again, this time manages to replay it, watches it again._

QUINN - Can I… get this…?

JULIA - I’ll send it to you. Gimme your number before I go and I’ll send it.

_She reaches into her bag. Pulls out the painting he was holding up in the video._

And this is yours.

_He looks at it in awe as she puts it on the table next to him._

Now Johnny, you have to know… this doesn’t change anything… about you and him. I’m not going to bring him in, he needs stability, he has a good life.

_He nods._

But I could see you needed... something. I thought it might help.

QUINN - Thank you.

JULIA - There’s one more. Hold on. Not made for you, but you might like it.

_She scrolls to another video._

_Looks at Quinn with a smile._

He’s funny.

_She plays it. Johnny is riding a bike towards the camera, laughing. As he reaches the camera he screams_

JOHNNY - Mommmmm! Stop filming!

JULIA - But you’re so cute, Johnny, I want to film you.

_He gets off his bike, drops it on the floor, pulls a face and puts his face right up to the camera, growling like a monster. Steps back._

JOHNNY - I’m not _cute_ , mom.

_The video ends. Julia looks at Quinn and sees that he’s crying._

JULIA - Johnny – shit. Don’t cry, I didn’t wanna upset you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shown you.

QUINN - It’s… so…

_He shakes his head._

So far away.

JULIA – I’m sorry. Oh Jesus. Johnny, sweetheart.

_She reaches up with both arms, grabs him and pulls him into her, holds him to her as he cries. He reaches up and, as best he can, holds her back._

\----

_The house in Philadelphia. Julia and Quinn curled up on the sofa, limbs idly tangled together. Glasses of wine on the table beside them. They’ve both been reading, Julia’s put her book in her lap and is starting to drift off to sleep, Quinn’s mind has started to wander._

QUINN – Ju.

_She stirs._

JULIA – Yeah?

_He wraps his arm round her a little closer, strokes her._

QUINN – Do you remember… that time you came to see me? At the VA?

_She’s alert at that. Sits up a little, looks round at him._

JULIA – Yeah. Of course.

_A moment of silence, he’s staring into space._

Why?

QUINN – I dunno. I just remembered it. I was so sad.

JULIA – Yeah. You were.

_She strokes his hand._

QUINN – Thank you for coming.


	5. The list

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like I’ve been a bit soft and sentimental about Quinn so far. The trouble with PTSD is not just that it gives you bad dreams. It can also make you behave like a dick. For reasons that are terrible and understandable and demand compassion, but there’s no denying that some people with PTSD can be hard to live with. Maybe not everyone, but it’s definitely a feature for some.
> 
> One of my favourite moments of TV ever is in the final episode of Rev, when Olivia Colman’s character gently reminds her husband, played by Tom Hollander, who’s a disillusioned vicar - that his job is not to minister to cute underprivileged children that everyone could agree were deserving and who appreciated him. It was to minister to the really annoying people, the ones who had driven everyone else away by being so annoying, and as a result had nothing. And who were still annoying. And ungrateful. That that was real compassion.
> 
> So I guess that’s the place that this comes from. How do you continue to love someone who is being infuriating, unreasonable, unpleasant, who doesn’t apologise when you think they should, whose needs are so great that they want the impossible?

_Not long after Quinn has moved in with Julia and Johnny._

_For a while he’s told himself that his bad dreams are the only way his PTSD manifests. That he has a lid on everything else. But he’s been living mostly alone for a while, so there’s been nobody to notice any different. That’s not the case any longer._

_Early evening, at home. Julia’s just in from work, gone off to take a shower, Johnny’s out playing with Louis from across the street. Julia comes back into the kitchen, where Quinn is._

JULIA - Hey, you going to the store tomorrow?

QUINN - I can. You need something?

JULIA - Yeah, just some shampoo. That stuff that’s in the shower.

QUINN - Sure.

_She turns to go again, then remembers something else, turns back to Quinn._

JULIA - Oh, and if you could pick up some eggs, we need to bake tomorrow. Johnny has some school thing.

QUINN - OK. Shampoo and eggs.

_Julia walks off. Comes back a couple of minutes later in her robe._

JULIA - Could you get me some pantyhose too? I’m through my last pair. I’ll give you the packet so you know what to get.

QUINN - Can you write it down?

JULIA - Just eggs, shampoo, pantyhose.

QUINN - Fuck’s sake. Julia. Write it down. I can’t…

_She raises her eyebrows at his sudden anger. Walks off in silence to go get the packet. Returns with it.  
_

JULIA - Here.

QUINN - I can’t remember. You gotta write it down.

JULIA - OK, I’ll write a list on the packet.

_Johnny comes in._

JOHNNY - Mom, can I go to the Y with Louis?

JULIA - Sure, honey, if Louis’s mom and dad say you can.

JOHNNY - Steve asked me.

JULIA - OK, Go get your stuff – your bathers are hanging up in the bathroom.

JOHNNY - Can you help me?

_She goes off up the stairs after him._

_Quinn looks down at the packet. No list._

QUINN - Ju.

 _(Under his breath)_ Fuck’s sake.

 _(Louder)_ Julia.

JULIA - _(From upstairs)_ What?

QUINN - You didn’t write a list.

JULIA - Well can’t you write it? Shampoo and eggs.

_He’s suddenly enraged. He’s asked for her help. Hates admitting what he can’t do, how bad his memory is, and she’s not helping him even when he goes out on a limb and asks. Doesn’t she know how much it takes him to ask for help? How fucking angry it makes him that he has to? His whole fucking life these days is people telling him he needs to open up, ask for help, so he finally does it, and this is what he gets?  
_

_He’s overcome with rage, lashes out with his hand and shoves over the stool next to him onto the kitchen floor, swears at it. Would kick it in anger, if he didn’t think he’d fall over, which makes him even angrier, so instead he draws back his right hand into a fist, slams it forward, and punches the wall._

_Julia comes thudding down the stairs. He’s standing in the kitchen, the stool by his feet, eyes blazing, flexing his hand, a dent in the plaster._

JULIA - _What_ is going on?

QUINN - You… you…

_She picks up the stool._

QUINN - You didn’t help me.

JULIA - Jesus. I was helping Johnny. He’s a _child_.

_He storms out, as best he can, into the living room. He’s all over the place. Angry, and ashamed, and confused, and overwhelmed, and…_

_Julia follows him._

_He keeps his back turned to her, picks up a cushion, squeezes it in his hand as hard as he can, trying to take out his feelings on something he won’t damage._

JULIA - John. I can _not_ do everything in this house. You have to have some patience.

_He turns round. He looks so angry, his face is red, though he’s clearly containing it physically, she doesn’t feel in any danger, but he’s not in a good place. Squeezing the cushion again and again. Trying to work out what to say. Everything’s falling apart, his speech has seized up. Jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly._

QUINN - Mmmn. Mnnn.

JULIA - You can’t go throwing around the furniture just because I didn’t write you a shopping list. Wait.

_He can’t explain. He’s just so angry, so pent up, so unable to deal with all this. He throws the cushion back onto the sofa, hard, and walks out to the front step._

_Julia stands where she is._

JOHNNY - _(From upstairs)_ Mom!

JULIA - I’m coming. Gimme a minute.

_She stares at the front door. Decides not to go out. Straightens the cushion. Goes back to the kitchen, looks at the fist mark in the wall. Picks up a painting of Johnny’s from the counter, pins it over the dented plaster to hide it, straightens the stool. Takes several deep breaths. Picks up a pen, writes on the front of the packet_

Shampoo  
Eggs

_Puts the pen down. Takes another deep breath. Goes upstairs to sort Johnny._

\----

_She comes back downs with Johnny, who runs off through the front door, bag over his shoulder, yells a passing goodbye to Quinn, gets a monosyllabic answer back but doesn’t notice._

_Julia sits on the sofa for a while. Thinks. Through the window, she can just see the back of Quinn’s head, sitting on the step outside. Waits a while. Maybe five minutes, maybe ten. Eventually, gets up opens the front door._

JULIA - Can I come out?

_He nods. Doesn’t look round._

_She sits next to him. They both sit a while, in silence. She looks down at his hand. Bruised knuckles. She reaches across, rubs her fingers over them gently._

JULIA - You’re gonna have some fancy bruises here. Looks like you were in a fight.

_Silence._

JULIA - I’m sorry if I upset you.

_He nods._

_They sit a while longer._

_Eventually..._

QUINN - I… asked you.

JULIA - To write the list?

_He nods._

JULIA - I know. But I _can’t_ do everything at once. And Johnny’s just a kid. If you both need me, he’s gonna take priority. I mean… not if you’re having a seizure or something. But… writing a shopping list? That has to wait.

QUINN - I can’t. Hold things here.

_He points to his head._

QUINN - If I think they’re gonna go… _(he clicks a finger by his temple)…_ it scares me. When I feel it going. Need to get it down. To remember. Right away. Before it goes.

I hate it. But I _asked_. And I could feel it going. From here.

_Taps his forehead._

Makes me scared.

_She suddenly feels terrible. Had no idea how directly this small need, for help to remember the things he could no longer hold onto for himself, was hard-wired into his emotions. His fear._

_But she’s also not prepared to be at fault, to be left constantly running back and forth between both ends of the pitch to keep the ball moving._

JULIA - You did. But I can’t always do everything right away. We need to find a better way around this. Because you can’t get angry like this when there’s a child in the house.

_He bites his lip, looks down, ashamed._

QUINN - I didn’t know what to do. It scares me when my brain won’t hold things.

JULIA - I know. But you gotta pause. Stop and think - How much does this really matter? If I forget right now and Julia has to tell me again later, does that matter? Can you just let it go and wait until later?

I know you have PTSD, I know you can’t always control everything you feel. If it was just you and me, I’d say do what you like, I can put you in a stranglehold any time I need to if you’re out of hand.

_They both smile a little. They both know she absolutely could._

But it’s not. It’s Johnny. And neither of us want him to be around out-of-control anger.

_He feels another wave of shame course through him._

I think you need to make an appointment with Kerry. Tomorrow. And start working on this.

_He nods._

Do you want me to put something on that hand?

_He shakes his head._

QUINN - Do I need to fix the wall?

JULIA - Nah. I put that picture of Johnny’s over it. It looks fine. We’ll tell him he’s starting an art gallery.

QUINN - It’s not me. You know.

JULIA - What?

QUINN - That’s not me. The angry man. It’s not real me.

JULIA - I know that. But Johnny doesn’t.

QUINN - Yeah.

JULIA - Now. We have an unexpected evening home alone. I’ve been at work all day. What you gonna cook me for supper?

QUINN - We got any eggs?

_For a second she’s not sure if he’s serious. The he grins. She laughs and hits him on the arm._

JULIA - Fuck you. No, we don’t have eggs. Find something else.

_She stands and starts to go in._

I’m gonna go take a shower, look after _myself_ for at least five minutes out of this whole evening.

QUINN - Ju…

JULIA - Yeah?

QUINN - Will you still write it?

JULIA - What? The list?

QUINN - Yeah.

 _JULIA - (Through clenched teeth)._ I wrote it. On the packet.

QUINN - ( _He nods)._ Oh. OK. OK.


	6. From the mouths of babes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't notice until I started posting these how much time Johnny spends on his bike. Poor boy must be exhausted! (And fear not, the next chapter will be a little happier than 5&6 have been...)

_Johnny’s on his bike. This time in the street outside the house. He pulls up in front of Quinn, who standing in front of the house, watching._

JOHNNY – Dad, can you ride a bike?

_Quinn frowns._

QUINN – No.

JOHNNY – You should learn.

QUINN – I used to.

But I can't hold on with this hand now. And I can't pedal with this leg. I'd just fall off.

JOHNNY – Who taught you to ride a bike? If you didn't know your mom and dad when you were little?

QUINN – They taught us in the children's home. Had three bikes in the yard, took us out there one day and we rode round til we got it. But I didn't have a bike of my own so I didn't get much practice.

JOHNNY – You didn't have a bike?

QUINN – Nope.

JOHNNY – Man.

QUINN – You're a lucky boy. Not everyone has all the toys and stuff you have.

JOHNNY – Are there still kids in children's homes like you were?

QUINN – I guess. Must be. Not everyone's mom and dad can look after them.

JOHNNY – Like when you were a soldier and you couldn't look after me?

_A blow right in the gut. Comparing his abandonment of Johnny and Julia to the abandonment of his own childhood. Nobody's ever drawn that line quite so clearly before._

QUINN – Maybe.

_His brain feels dark, clouded, all of a sudden._

QUINN – Go ride down the street, show me how quick you are.

_Johnny grins, gets up on the bike and pedals off. Quinn sits down heavily on the front step. Is lost in thought, staring at the ground, when Johnny whizzes by._

JOHNNY – Dad!

QUINN – Well done.

_He stands._

I just gotta go inside. Keep riding.

_He goes indoors. Mind dragging, body refusing his commands. Stumbles through the house, goes to the bathroom. Locks the door. Puts the lid down on the toilet and sits. Rests his head in his hand, feeling his breath race._

_Has he done to Johnny what was done to him? He's been so focussed on his return, the joy of getting to know his son, that he's been ignoring the ten years he wasn't around. That he chose not to be around. That he'll never get back. Thinks of Johnny starting school, no dad. Going to daycare, no dad. Birthdays, school plays, days at the park, no dad. His breathing is short, his head swirling. Has he damaged this sweet boy, dropping his responsibilities and choosing to stride around the world with the CIA instead?_

_Tries to talk himself down. Johnny seems OK. Maybe he'd survived the abandonment. But no thanks to him. He’d taken the darkness of his own childhood and perpetrated it on the person he loved the most. How can Johnny have been so forgiving? So able to overlook the years he was away? Suddenly he feels sick. Stands up, throws up in the sink, feels a cold sweat down his back as his face flushes._

_A knock at the door._

JULIA – Johnny? You OK?

_Julia. He didn't even hear her come in from work._

_Opens his mouth but no words come out. His mind is blank._

_She rattles the handle, clearly alarmed._

JULIA – Johnny, talk to me, you OK?

_She's starting to panic. He can't find any words. She thinks he's having a seizure or something. Has to reassure her but can't talk. Turns to the door, unlocks it, opens it a little, sits back down on the toilet, shaking and sweating. She pushes the door open._

_Johnny? What's going on? Are you sick?_

QUINN – I...

_He points to the sink._

I...

_Points at his head._

Can't...

JULIA – Do you think you're gonna have a seizure?

_Shakes his head._

_She kneels in front of him._

JULIA – What is it? Panic attack?

_Didn't occur to him, but realises that's what it is. Hasn't had one brought about by this exact train of thought before, didn't recognise it, the thoughts were so real, so damning, so frightening._

_Mumbles -_

QUINN – Maybe.

_She places her hands on his knees, rubs his thighs gently._

JULIA – Do you know what started it?

QUINN – I thought...

_He chokes._

JULIA – It's OK, it's OK. Just breathe.

_He does. Slow, deliberate, deep breaths. Tries again.  
_

QUINN – Suddenly thought about how I abandoned you. And Johnny. Same way I was. I did the same to him. No dad. No dad.

_He clams up with grief._

JULIA – Oh gees, Johnny, where did this come from suddenly?

_He shrugs and shakes his head._

JULIA – Well, listen. Honestly? Yeah. What you did was pretty shitty. God knows I spent long enough being angry with you for it. But maybe you did it _because_ it was done to you. Because you were scared of being in a family. And I had a hand in it too. I told you not to come back. You tried. I know you wanted into his life the best you could but I said no. And he wasn't abandoned. He always had me. For a while he had Roger. Who - I know you didn't think much of him, but he was a good dad to Johnny, til we broke up.

That boy has never felt unloved a day in his life, I promise you. I mean - look at him now. Does he look screwed up to you?

_Shakes his head._

That's because he's not. If he had abandonment issues, he wouldn't have just picked up with you the way he did. He's a happy child. And he's happier now you're here. I'm sorry for you that you missed that time with him, but we managed our circumstances the best we could, and it's not scarred him for life, as far as I can see.

_They sit a while, let all those thoughts sink in. He shudders, suddenly feels sick again. Stands, grabs the sink, throws up. She rubs his back, runs the tap, hands him a washcloth, then a towel._

I think you should come lie down a while. Yeah?

_He nods._

_She takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom. He sits on the side of the bed and she slides his jacket off, then his shoes, he lies down on his side. She sits on the floor in front of him._

You show me a parent who doesn't have regrets, Johnny, I'll show you a liar. But Johnny's good. He's happy and clever and loving and he has a dad that he loves and who loves him. So you need to try and let go of that guilt.

_He nods. Often kind of mute at times of high emotion._

OK.

_She stands, strokes his shoulder, his arm. Leans over and kisses his forehead._

You just rest up a little. You want some meds?

_He shakes his head._

QUINN - No.

No.

_Taps his head gently._

I wanna think.

\----

_Later._

_Quinn got up to eat dinner with Julia and Johnny, but was very quiet, speaking only to tell Johnny to stop swinging on his chair, ask Julia to pass the salt, to thank her for cooking. Julia put Johnny to bed, while Quinn sat on the sofa, a book in his hand but staring at the floor in front of him._

_She comes back down. Sits on a stool right in front of him, takes the book out of his hand and puts it aside, holds his hands in hers._

JULIA – How you doing in there? What’s going on?

_He looks at her. At length. She waits for him. Eventually._

QUINN – Ju. I want to say something to you.

JULIA – Okaaay.

QUINN – And I think when I start, you’ll try and stop me. But you have to let me say it _all_.

_She’s a little worried, but…_

JULIA – OK. Say it. Tell me.

QUINN – When I went away.

_He shakes his head in irritation. That’s not right._

When you had Johnny. When you were pregnant. And we were so happy and excited. Then I went to Beirut. Fucked it all up.

_She bites her lip so hard to stop from interjecting. To stop herself brushing it aside, saying it’s all in the past, he should stop right there._

QUINN – What I did was so bad. You needed me and Johnny needed me and…

_She can’t help herself._

JULIA – Johnny…

QUINN – No. _Let_ me. Please let me.

_A pause. She’s quiet._

I didn’t know any other way. I started with the CIA when I was 16.

JULIA – Six _teen_?

_She reels. She’d somehow never known that. Knew he’d been in since he was young, but not how young._

QUINN – Recruited. Totally fucked up. I know that now. But back then I didn’t. It was just the only life I knew. Knew nothing about babies. Never held a baby. Never even t-touched a baby.

_He's going slowly, picking his way through the words._

I was never in a family my whole life, just like you said. It was all different. I was so fucking scared. When you kept bringing stuff home. Baby clothes, blankets, all that. Beirut seemed like a walk in the park. I thought I could do both. Thought it would keep me sane, be home with you and then get out and do what I knew, take a breather.

But you were right. I couldn’t do both. You were right to not let me back. I’m so, _so_ sad I couldn’t stay. Didn’t know how to stay. And I’m so glad you did the right thing for Johnny. And I’m sorry.

I just wanted to say I’m sorry. It’s important. I’m sorry.

_She gazes at him. Quiet. He’s finished. She bites back on her instinct to brush it away, tell him not to worry. Makes herself listen. Really hear his words and absorb them. Squeezes his hands._

JULIA – Thank you.

Thank you.

_She moves onto the sofa beside him, he puts his arm round her, and they sit - quite still, a little sad, together._

 


	7. When you're down and troubled...

_Quinn’s with Kerry, his therapist.  
_

QUINN – You know… I thought it would get easier the more time went. Feel more safe in my new life, thought it would be better.

But now it's... sometimes it's worse.

_He gazes out of the window a while, thinking._

Like the gap between my life now, and then, is so big. When my mind goes back there, the shock is bigger. Got even more to lose, get so much more scared.

And…everyone around me is so normal, I've got so much more to cover up. Neighbours, teachers…

KERRY – Do you have to cover it up?

 _Shrugs_.

QUINN – Can't just say it. “How are you?” “Not great, I was up all night thinking about the time I got tortured.”

KERRY – Maybe not like that. But your neighbours know you were in the military, right?

_He nods._

And they can see you have a disability. It won't be a total surprise to hear you're dealing with PTSD.

And honestly, don't you think some of them know? That video was everywhere for a while. Even people who didn't watch the video, the stills were on the news. And then again after New York.

_He stiffens, looks down._

I'm sorry. I know that makes you feel awful. But it means... I think if you broached the subject, people might not be as shocked as you think. They might be relieved that you mentioned it. Glad that you felt able to open up to them a little.

Nobody expects you to relive the whole thing with them. There's a reason you come to see me and that's because there are conversations you don't want to have with your neighbours. But once you've mentioned it to them, acknowledged that something bad happened to you that still has to be dealt with... then that conversation you talked about _can_ happen -

“How you doing?” “Not great, to be honest. Didn't sleep well last night, I'm having a rough time just now.” “I'm sorry - why don't I take the kids out for pizza this evening, you guys can have some quiet time together?”

That's the way these conversations could go. Doesn't need to be a constant confessional. Just stop you feeling you have to keep a lid on everything even when times are hard.

Is there anyone in particular you think you could have that kind of talk with?

_He puts his head on one side. Thinks. Says nothing._

What you thinking?

QUINN – Guy across the street. Steve. Our kids are friends. Keeps asking me to a poker game. I don't wanna go.

KERRY – Because you feel safer keeping your distance?

_He nods._

KERRY – Well, why don't we run through some different conversations you could have with him? Next time he asks how you're doing, what else could you say?

\----

_Outside the house. Sitting on the step. Often sits there. When he's not feeling great, physically or mentally, hasn't been leaving the house much, the fresh air feels good, but he knows he can step straight back indoors if his fatigue or anxiety escalate._

_The anxiety has been clawing at his chest all day. Took Johnny to school, and when he got home, it was all he could do not to just get back into bed, pull the covers over his head and spend the day there. Tried to stay busy with chores, watch some TV, read a book. But his concentration was shot. Eventually he gave up and just went out to sit outside, watch the wind in the trees, listen to the traffic, feel the air on his face._

_He’s been there a while, eyes closed, listening to the breeze, when a car pulls up across the street. He opens his eyes, suddenly self-conscious, and sees Steve get out and walk around the car to grab a bag from the trunk. He sees Quinn._

STEVE – Hey, Johnny, how you doing?

_He smiles weakly, almost a wince. Fuck. This is it. What does he say?_

_But in fact his silence does the job for him. It's just too long. Enough that it invites a moment of concern._

STEVE – You OK?

_He shrugs._

QUINN – Ahh you know.

_His palms are cold and sweaty, his mouth dry, his heart pounding high in his chest._

_Steve walks over towards him.  
_

_Quinn looks at him. He has to say something, he's far in enough now._

QUINN – Not the greatest week.

STEVE – Ah, I'm sorry. Things a little tough?

_He realises. Steve knows. That wasn't a "Why, what's up?" It was an "I know what you must be talking about."_

_He looks down. Turns it into a nod. Looks back up into Steve's face. It's neutral, not pitying, not screwed up with concern, just listening._

QUINN – Yeah. I...

_He points at himself, then into the house, not sure what he's doing, what he's pointing at. Winces again._

I have...

_It escapes his mouth before he even knows it's coming._

PTSD.

_Fuck, did he just say that?_

_Steven hasn't startled, doesn't look awkward, has the same level expression on his face, listening._

_Quinn feels like a pair of doors have just opened in front of him, but he doesn’t know what’s on the other side. Could be solid ground, could be a huge black hole. He steps through._

QUINN – So s-s-s-sometimes... I don't sleep so well, and... you know...

_He taps his forehead._

Can't stop this. Going p-places I wish it didn't.

_Steve's looking at him seriously. Not backing away, looking freaked out or uncomfortable._

STEVE – I'm sorry, man. You getting any help with it?

QUINN – Yeah. I see someone. But some days it's just...

_He shrugs. Is frustrated, this guy wants to listen, why can't he find any words? Realises how quickly his world has reversed - here he is all of a sudden **wanting** to talk about it, more than he's able._

...tough. Can't stop things… playing. Replaying.

_Steve sighs and sits next to him on the step. Stares straight ahead._

STEVE – I can't compare... I mean - it was nothing really - but I smashed my car up once. When I was a kid. I wasn't badly hurt but that was a miracle, car was trashed. I used to wake up with dreams - I've never known fear like it. Woke up fucking terrified, like I was dying right there in my bed every night. Smell of burning. So real. Felt like I was losing my mind.

_Quinn looks at him like a small child looking up at an adult he's in awe of. That this guy has thrown him such a bone. Said “Me too” so easily. So grateful he feels like he might cry._

QUINN – Yeah. I.. I... I get that. A lot. Still. I was... It was a coupla years ago now. But I still get it. I was...

_He looks the other way, speaks softly._

I was tortured. Gassed. You probably saw it. Was everywhere. Apparently. The news.

_He doesn't look at Steve, but the quiet tells him this isn't news to his neighbour._

Not sure I'm ever gonna escape it. Those dreams. Fucking... terror.

STEVE – Mine did stop, eventually.

QUINN – They did?

STEVE – Yeah. I mean - like I say, I can't compare. It was nothing, compared with what happened to you. But if it gives you hope. It got better for me. Just took a long time.

QUINN – Thank you.

STEVE – Anything I can do to help today? Wanna come over? I'm just doing yard work. If you'd rather be busy. Or just sit on my step instead of yours. Someone else around, distract you.

QUINN – Thank you. Yeah. OK. Thank you.

\----

_And so, gradually, a routine develops. Steve's off work most Mondays - he works retail, does a lot of weekends and has time off in the week. Quinn has therapy on a Monday morning. That and switching back to a weekday routine after a weekend with the family, leave him unsettled on Monday afternoons._

_When he thinks company would help, he sits out on the step, and more often than not, Steve appears too and they pick up a few tasks together, in one yard or the other; one house or the other._

_Not only do they enjoy working together, they make a good team. Quinn’s practical nous - though not as quick as it once was – is still way ahead of most people’s. He’s always coming up with sharp solutions to problems, resisting in the process the temptation to explain to Steve that he knows how to rewire the garage lights because he used to build circuits for pipe bombs._

_With only one hand, there's a frustrating amount of the work that he can’t do himself, but having to explain to Steve what to do has sharpened both his patience and his speech a little, and between them they get things done. The pride he feels in working things out, the fact Steve is genuinely impressed, listens to him keenly, like a pupil, is just enough to counterbalance the irritation and humiliation he still feels that he can’t do everything for himself._

_And Steve is easy company - doesn't force Quinn into conversation if he’s unresponsive, but never makes him feel pitied. More often than not, the days he starts out feeling estranged from normal ways of thinking and feeling, the rhythm of the work, the laid back company, leave him by the end of the afternoon chatting idly as if he was just a normal guy, to his own incredible surprise._

_On the days they've been working together during the afternoon, they walk down and collect the boys from school together._

_Then one week, when they've been repairing a section of fence in Steve’s yard, Quinn stands up as they finish and sways dramatically, almost loses his balance - he's exhausted._

_Steve raises a hand to steady him and says nothing. They pack the tools away, finishing just in time for school pick up. They shut the garage door and Steve says…_

STEVE – I'll get the boys. You go rest up.

QUINN – It's fine. I'm fine.

STEVE – You're not. You're tired. I'll go.

_It's a simple statement of fact. And he is tired. Fucking shattered, the muscles across the back of his shoulders and neck tight, his lower back in spasm, and - simply - tired._

QUINN – Thanks. You sure?

STEVE – Yeah. No problem. Thanks for your help with the fence.

QUINN – Sure. Thank you.

_Quinn heads home as Steve goes off to the school. Lies back on his bed, immensely relieved that he'll get some rest before Johnny comes in - the frequent, overwhelming fatigue that came with the brain injury one of the symptoms that's never going away for good, it seems. Leaves the bedroom door open so he'll hear Johnny come in._

\----

_Wakes from a heavy sleep to a quiet house. Looks at the clock. 6.30pm. Fuck. Gets up as fast as he can, rubbing his face, stumbles into his shoes and downstairs, no sign of Johnny. Goes out and across to Steve's - as he approaches he smells meat on a grill, there's smoke curling round the side of the house.  
_

_He walks round, sees Johnny and Steve's son Louis playing in the dirt with action figures, building them hills and forts, shooting one another down. The grill's going._

QUINN – Hey.

_Johnny barely looks round as he speaks._

JOHNNY – Hey, dad.

_Steve steps out the back door, some chopped onions in a bowl in his hand, sees Quinn and gestures to the grill._

STEVE – Hey, Johnny - you ready for burgers?

QUINN – I'm _so_ s-s-sorry - I fell asleep.

STEVE – You did? That's great, you needed it. Wanna beer?

_Quinn's stumped. This uncomplicated kindness, this carrying out of obvious, simple things to make his life easier... this has never happened to him before. The sense that he has back up. He barely had that even in the CIA when it was his ass on the line, let alone now when it's just his dinner, his energy, his happiness._

_He looks at the dozen burgers on the grill._

QUINN – You sure?

STEVE – Well we can't eat these all ourselves. Go grab yourself a Bud from the fridge.

QUINN – Thanks. You want one?

STEVE – I'm good, I got one.

_Quinn goes in, gets a beer, opens it, comes back out. Stands in the doorway, looks at the kids playing happily; at Steve flipping burgers. It hits him - he's made a friend. Fuck, his life gets weirder every day. Well - by anyone else's standards, it gets more normal every day, but by his, it's completely fucking weird. He loves it._


	8. What's in a name...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The question Quinn asks in this chapter just occurred to me the other day. The way I've written this AU, Quinn & Julia were already separated by the time Johnny arrived. So why would he be called Johnny? I thought I'd made a wrong call, that they must actually have been still together when he was born. But then I thought maybe my version could still be possible - maybe I could just put the characters together and let them talk about it, and see if they could explain it to me. And they did.

_They’re in bed together. Post coital. Entwined, half dozing, talking, stroking, dozing again._

QUINN – Ju. 

JULIA – Mmm?

QUINN – I ask you something?

JULIA – Sure.

_She rolls towards him, kisses his forehead._

QUINN – Might not be the time.

JULIA – Oh. Great. One of those.

QUINN – No... I just…

JULIA – C’mon, ask me. ( _She reaches down, tickles his balls_ ) I got you in the right place if you piss me off.

_They both laugh as he wriggles away._

_His face resolves into thoughtfulness. Stares at her as if trying to predict what she’ll say._

QUINN – Just something I always wondered.

_She props her head up on her elbow._

JULIA – Well come on, Mr Mystery. What?

QUINN – Why _did_ you name him after me? You must have hated me.

_She exhales heavily, drops back on the pillow._

JULIA – Shit, I’ve asked myself that question _so_ many times, believe me.

QUINN – You ever get an answer?

JULIA – Yeah. A few.

_A silence._

QUINN – Share?

I mean, you don’t have to.

JULIA – I never stopped loving you, Johnny. You know that.

_An electric bolt goes through him. He didn’t know that. Not really._

We just didn’t work. Couldn’t work.

When I held that little boy in my arms, there was a massive hole in my life. In his life. His daddy. My partner. The guy that was supposed to be there. I know I told you not to come back, I know I was angry, but that didn’t stop me loving you. I didn't hate you. I felt you missing every single day. Especially in the beginning.

_She’s on her back, looking up at the ceiling, he’s on his side, watching her intently._

_He just lets her talk – that’s often his default these days, since his brain takes a while to get moving. But as a result, he realises he’s become a good listener – the silence he leaves while he’s thinking gives her space to keep talking. And so now he often stays quiet anyway, even when he has something to say, just to listen._

JULIA – And really, it was for him, not for you. I guess I knew I’d torn away from him that one huge thing. His daddy. Your name was the only thing left I _could_ give him. Something that was a part of you. Even if he wasn’t gonna know it for… however long.

I wasn’t going to. Call him John. At _all_. I had a whole list, and Johnny wasn’t even on it. Nowhere close. But fuck it, you guys….

_She comes to a stop. She’s thinking, eyes still on the ceiling. Eventually…_

When I looked in his eyes, it was you.

_She rolls to look at him._

In there. Whatever makes a person who they are, he had you in his eyes right from the start.

I started thinking of him as Johnny even before I knew it. By the time I had to stop and think about it, consciously, it was too late to go any other way. He was already Johnny.

_He grins. Strokes her hair gently._

QUINN – Wow.

JULIA – Yeah. You little fucker, I couldn’t get away from you even when I tried.

_She smiles a little._

_He wraps his arm round her and they schooch close together and cuddle._


	9. Sick day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless sentimentality ;) Starts out sounding like it's going to be more Quinn pain porn, but bear with me, that's all really just a long set-up for the very last image, which was a moment I wanted to give to both of them.

_A stomach bug has been passing around the family. Julia’s been fine so far, but Johnny had a couple of days off school. Now Quinn has it. Felt rough yesterday, went to bed early evening but woke up, threw up. Crawled back to bed and slept through the night. Tried a little breakfast, threw up again, is lying in bed half asleep when he suddenly wakes with a start._

QUINN – Fuck.

 _(Shouts)_ Ju?

_Realises he has no idea if she’s even home, if she’s working today or not. She must have told him, but his mind’s cloudy. He drops back on his pillow. Waits a few moments. Then Julia appears in the doorway._

JULIA – You OK?

QUINN – Primidone. It’s…

_He points to the bathroom._

I must’ve thrown it up. Last night and tonight. I mean today. This morning.

JULIA – Oh. Shit. I didn’t even think of that.

QUINN – Nor me. What if…? I get bad quickly. When I don’t take it. Seizures.

JULIA – Yeah. Well let’s not panic. You’re OK right now. Let’s call the hospital, see what they say.

\----

_He comes off the phone._

QUINN – Just wait and take the next dose. Call them again if I throw that one up. But… they said I can’t be alone. In case I seize. Need someone with me.

JULIA – OK, well that’s fine, I’m here.

QUINN – But for a few days.

JULIA – Shit. I gotta work tomorrow. And the next day. I’m never gonna get a shift change at this short notice.

QUINN – Call Carmen? If anyone’s gonna babysit me, might as well be Carmen. I mean… actual babysitter.

_She kisses him on the head._

JULIA – It’s sweet how much you like her.

QUINN – I do. She taught me a lot. With Johnny. She gets me.

JULIA – Yeah. But… she’s on vacation right now. And my mom’s out of town.

QUINN – They said they have a day centre. At the hospital. If there’s no alternative they said I should go there. So they can watch out for me.

JULIA – Jesus. Sit and do jigsaws with the old folks all day?

_He nods, looks disturbed at the thought._

JULIA – How about _your_ mom?

_He looks at her, gulps, eyebrows raised, no idea what to think._

QUINN – I dunno. I guess. I mean, she might not be free.

JULIA – No. But we could ask. Even if she can’t do it, I bet she’d love to be asked. And if she can’t, I guess you’re at the hospital tomorrow.

Want me to call her? You look really pale.

QUINN – No. I’ll do it.

\----

QUINN – Hi. It’s Johnny.

HELEN – Johnny, how lovely to hear from you, how are you?

QUINN – OK. How are you?

HELEN – Yes, just fine, thank you. I’ve just been out in the garden.

QUINN – Oh, nice. Actually I’m not totally OK. I got a stomach bug.

HELEN – Oh, dear. That’s no fun. I’m sorry.

QUINN – And it’s… making a few problems. I don’t know…

_Julia’s watching. She nods encouragingly at him._

I just wanted to ask… if you might be able to help. But it’s OK if you can’t. It’s really short notice.

HELEN – What is it?

QUINN – I think I threw up my seizure medication. Twice. Didn’t think. The hospital say I should have someone with me for a few days. In case I have one. A seizure. Julia has to work.

HELEN – Oh, goodness. Do you need someone there?

QUINN – I know it’s really short notice.

HELEN – Oh Johnny, I’d love to. If you’d have me. I mean, if that’s what you’re asking?

QUINN – Yeah. It is.

HELEN – Well, that’s the best offer I’ve had all week. I’d love to come, Johnny. I mean, I’m sorry you need me there, I’m sorry you’re not well. But I’d be so happy to help.

QUINN – Thank you. Thank you.

\----

_The next day._

_No more vomiting but he’s still running a slight fever, not feeling right. Doctor’s been out and checked him, he’s under orders to rest._

_He’s been lying in bed, but is fed up. Sits up, turns to the edge of the bed, feeling pale and grey. There’s a blanket over the quilt, he grabs it and pulls it up, wraps it round his shoulders. Grabs his cane because his entire body feels wobbly. Walks through to the living room. Helen’s on the couch._

HELEN – Hey. How’s my boy?

_He looks glum._

Oh dear. Come sit down.

_He walks to the couch, sits next to her._

What can I get you? Do you want a little soup?

QUINN – No. I’m not hungry.

HELEN – Well, you should try to eat something. Toast?

QUINN – Maybe.

HELEN – I’ll make some.

_Helen goes into the kitchen._

_Quinn can’t get comfortable. He drops a cushion onto the floor and lowers himself off the edge off the sofa to sit on it, leaning his back against the sofa, pulls his knees up, blanket wrapped around himself._

_Johnny’s favourite teddy bear, Scrappy, is sitting in the corner of the sofa. Quinn looks round at him, and pulls him across. He squishes Scrappy into his lap like a cushion. It feels good to have something against his stomach, and Scrappy’s big enough he can rest the side of his head on top of the bear’s head. And it reminds him of Johnny, which is comforting._

_Helen comes back in with a plate of toast._

HELEN – Oh, dear. You do look poorly.

_She places the plate on the coffee table. Sits on the sofa beside him._

You poor thing.

_She strokes his back affectionately. They’re both feeling their way into this, never done it before… but he goes with it, rests his head on her knee. She places a hand on his head, ruffles his hair._

I’m sorry you feel so bad.

_He sits, quietly, wondering how to say what he wants to say. Eventually…_

QUINN – This is nice though.

_She was thinking the same. In fact, her heart is nearly bursting. Here she is, comforting her sick son. He could easily be 11 years old and off school. Wrapped in his blanket, hugging his teddy, snuggled against her knee._


	10. My hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised in the comments to Chapter 9, just a quick, happy chapter at home with the Quinn-Diaz family.

_The kitchen table. Johnny’s doing his homework, Quinn’s sitting by him, flicking through news on his tablet, helping his son as needed. Johnny suddenly looks up._

JOHNNY – Dad, can I write about you?

QUINN – Write about me? 

JOHNNY – For school. We gotta make a project about our hero. I wanna do you.

QUINN – Oh. Really? 

JOHNNY – You were a soldier, and you were brave, and you got hurt. You’re a hero.

_Quinn looks thoughtful, closes his tablet and pushes it away._

JOHNNY – Is it OK?

QUINN – I’m thinking.

_And he is. It’s sweet. And it might be a good chance to talk a little more to Johnny about his past, before he finds out from some kid in the playground. But... something doesn’t feel right._

JOHNNY – Don’t you wanna be my hero?

QUINN – I love being your hero. Thank you. But I think there’s someone else who should your number one hero. Ahead of me.

JOHNNY – Who? 

_Quinn points upstairs._

JOHNNY – Who?

QUINN – Well, who’s upstairs?

JOHNNY – _Mom?!!!_

QUINN – Yeah.

JOHNNY – Mom’s not my hero. She’s my mom.

QUINN – Well... _I_ think she’s a hero. She’s _my_ hero. Think about it. I went away to work, I didn’t take care of you for a long time. But mom was here every single day. Even when I went away and she was on her own.

_Johnny’s still not quite on board._

She raised you up to be the great guy that you are. I just turned up when you were already awesome and got to enjoy you. Mom helped you when you were a baby and a toddler and when you started school. Everything.

And she’s a cop. That’s a hero’s job, if you do it right, and mom really does it right. Then she comes home to be your mom too. She takes care of you, she takes care of me when I get sick, then she goes off and helps people all over the city. And she’s a woman cop. Few years back there weren’t any women who were cops.

I know she’s your mom, and you’re used to her being around, but she’s amazing. She really is.

_Johnny grins._

_He gets up, runs to the stairs, halfway up them, and shouts._

JOHNNY – Mom!

JULIA – Yeah?

JOHNNY – You’re amazing.

 _She appears at the top of the stairs._

JULIA – I’m sorry?

JOHNNY – Me and Dad think you’re amazing. You’re my hero. 

_Julia’s a little surprised, not sure what to make of it._

JULIA – Oh. Thank you!

_Johnny runs back into the kitchen, sits down, grinning, and resumes his homework. Quinn watches him with a smile._


	11. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time after [Max has first shown up on Quinn's doorstep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570763/chapters/27648156) to tell him Dar is dying. And after [Quinn finally moves in with Johnny and Julia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012986).

_Quinn’s phone buzzes. A text from Max._

MAX – Hey. You around this week? I have something for you. Don’t want to put in the mail.

QUINN – Yeah, I’m home. You coming down this way?

MAX – If you don’t mind.

QUINN – What is it? The thing.

_Long pause._

MAX – I’d rather bring it. Talk to you about it.

QUINN – Jesus. Show and tell, Max?

MAX – Humor me.

_Quinn’s turn for a pause. This pisses him off. Actually, it makes him uneasy. But now Max has sown the seed, he needs to know what it is._

QUINN – Wednesday morning?

MAX – Great. To the house?

QUINN – Yeah. I’ll be home alone. Come to no 26, not 24. Next door to where you came last time.

MAX – Sure. See you then.

\-----

_He’s sitting on the sofa. Flicking channels, trying to distract himself and failing. The door bell rings._

_He goes to the door, opens it. Max._

QUINN – Hey.

MAX – Hey, how you doing?

QUINN – Good.

MAX – You moved up a house.

QUINN – Yeah. We moved in.

MAX – That’s great.

QUINN – Yeah. Yeah, it is.

_He smiles._

MAX – I’m happy for you.

QUINN – Thanks, Max. Wanna coffee?

MAX – Sure.

_They go through to the kitchen. Quinn pours the coffee. Neither of them make conversation. He puts a mug in front of Max, drinks from his own._

QUINN – So what is it?

_Max sips his coffee, then puts it down. Stares at it for a moment. He’s rehearsed this all the way here but still isn’t quite sure what he’s gonna say. Stares. Thinks. Quinn waits._

MAX – Dar died.

_Quinn nods, taking this in, finding himself mercifully unmoved._

And he left you something.

_Now Quinn’s cool mask drops._

QUINN – _Me?_

MAX – Yeah. I don’t know why. Don’t know anything about it, really. But he was pretty specific. In his will.

_He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small leather pouch, puts it on the counter. Quinn stares at it, his brow furrows. Max pushes it across the counter towards him._

_Quinn picks it up, feels it between his fingertips. He can feel what’s inside._

QUINN – Fuck.

_Max looks at him. No idea what’s going on. Just waiting.  
_

_Quinn works his fingers into the top of the pouch, slides the strings open. Reaches in and pulls out a wide, pale green hoop. It’s cold – made of stone. Delicate carvings around the surface._

QUINN – **_Fuck_** _._

_He rolls it around in his fingers, staring at it. For a long time. Eventually…_

MAX – You know what it is?

_He stares a while longer. At last, he nods. Puts it down. Looks up at Max._

QUINN – Yeah.

 ** _Fuck_** me.

_He hammers his fist into the counter top suddenly and spins round, turns his back to Max, walks to the window and stares out, biting on the end of his thumb, trying to compose himself._

_Max gives him a moment._

MAX – I didn’t wanna just stick it in the mail. I didn’t know if it… it would mean something to you, didn’t want you to just open an envelope and find it inside, no warning.

_Quinn looks up at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, rubs the back of his neck. Finally turns round._

QUINN – Thank you.

_He walks across, sits down on a stool facing Max across the counter. Reaches out to the ring again, puts it on its side, rolls it a little side to side._

QUINN – It’s a jade ring. Archer’s ring.

_Max, not big on unnecessary words, preapres to sits and listen as Quinn explains. Quinn stares at the ring as he talks, but his mind is clearly a long way away._

QUINN – I gave it to him. Years ago. I mean… _fucking_ years.

_A pause._

My first job.

_Suddenly looks up at Max._

You know Dar recruited me when I was 16?

MAX – Six _teen_? How is that even possible?

QUINN – I was in a foster home. On the street, mostly. Had nothing. Nobody. Dar had people out looking for guys like me. Kids he could control, wouldn’t be missed, knew no better. Who would look up to him even when he treated them like shit.

He _…(there’s a long pause as he considers what word to use, how much he wants to reveal…)_ befriended me. Took me under his wing. Told me he could see I was smart, he could see a future for me. I didn’t buy it at first. Or I pretended not to. Didn’t buy anything anyone told me by that point in my life. But I knew that if he was right, it was my only way of the hellhole I was heading into. Crime, drugs. Short, nasty, painful kind of life that kids like me end up living. I had no choice. He knew it.

But… I kind of grew to… like him. I guess. Or respect him.

_A long silence._

Or something.

_He sits for a long time before starting again._

Long story short, he sent me to Hong Kong.

MAX – Jesus. When you were 16?

_Quinn nods._

QUINN – Just wanted a pretty kid who wouldn’t fuck it up. And who was disposable. But I felt like a million dollars when it all came off. He was right, I didn’t fuck it up. Worked like a charm. I came out feeling like I had a future. First time in my life I thought I might amount to something.

MAX – I had no idea.

QUINN – He was like a father, like… a lot of things. Everything I guess. I had nobody else, so he was everything.

I just wanted to buy him something. After the mission. To take home and present to him. Persuade him to make good on his promise, maybe. I was a teenager, I had pretty stupid ideas of what was meaningful. I went to the Jade Market in Kowloon, asked a guy there what kind of amulet I should give to a mentor, someone I looked up to.

He sold me this. Jade archer’s ring.

MAX – Archer?

_Quinn pulls his arm up as if pulling the string of a bow back, releases his fingers._

QUINN – Back from when the Chinese Emperor’s army was full of archers.

_He holds his thumb up._

They wore it on their thumb, protect them when they drew back the bow, or some shit like that. It was a… _(he laughs drily)_ well, the guy _told_ me...

Fuck’s sake. I was so green.

He told me it was a symbol of an emperor’s power. I thought that was pretty cool. Thought I was the coolest fucking kid in the world, a spy bringing a symbolic amulet back to my handler. Guess I wanted to join the emperor’s army. Fucking idiot.

I thought about it once or twice since then, cringed. Thought what a stupid child I must have seemed, bringing him tourist trash and thinking it meant the world.

But honestly, I’d forgotten about it. Think I assumed he threw it out the day I gave it to him.

_He stares at the ring._

He fucking _kept_ it?

MAX – I guess it meant more to him than you thought.

QUINN – Fuck me.

_Quinn stands up suddenly again, shoves the stool aside, turns round, walks quickly back to the window and stares back out. Says nothing for a long time. Suddenly there’s a long sniff and Max realises he’s crying. Max still says nothing._

_Quinn doesn’t turn round._

_Eventually Max cracks._

MAX – You OK?

 _Quinn turns round. Wipes his face._ _This time his voice is a whisper._

QUINN – He fucking kept it?

MAX – Yeah.

QUINN – And then he sent it to me? After he died? What is it, I mean… some kind of power trip? I’m still your fucking emperor, you don’t escape me? Is that it?

MAX – Maybe he just wanted you to have it.

_Quinn shakes his head._

MAX – You know, I saw him… when you were in Berlin… in the hospital. He slept by your bed. When you were really sick. I think he really cared about you.

QUINN – Don’t _say_ that, Max.

MAX – Oh.

QUINN – Seriously, don’t fucking say that. He didn’t care about me. He abused me. Used me for what _he_ wanted. Not just when I was 16. My whole fucking career was about doing what he needed, no matter what was best for me. I turned my back on my son for him. For the job he gave me.

I don’t want his fucking ring. Please take it away.

MAX – Sure. I’m sorry.

_Max reaches out, puts it back in the pouch, sticks it back in his pocket._

_Quinn sits again. Thinks. Drums his fingers. Drinks a little coffee. Calms down a little._

QUINN – I’m sorry. I know you’re just the messenger.

MAX – It’s fine. I’m really sorry it was such a bad gift.

_They both laugh. Just a beat, before the solemnity seeps back in.  
_

QUINN – Look, will you just… destroy it? Chuck out the car window when you’re going over a bridge. Anything. Get rid of it.

MAX – It’s gone.

QUINN – Fuck.

 


	12. The love and the loathing

_Ever since Max’s visit, he’s found Dar creeping into his mind. An itch he can’t help but scratch. Wakes up suddenly in the night a couple of times, Dar’s face right in front of him, until he wakes properly and realises it was a dream._

_Dances around it with Julia a few times._

QUINN – You know I told you... how I started when I was only 16... in the CIA. You didn’t know that?

JULIA – No. I don’t know how I never knew.

QUINN – Guess I never told you. I knew it was kind of shocking.

JULIA – Yeah. It is. Only six years older than Johnny.

QUINN – Fuck.

JULIA – I’m guessing you were a little more streetwise than our little guy, though.

QUINN – Yeah.

\----

_She knows something’s up but not sure what. When he’s doing stuff, there’s a frown he gets, his eyebrows knit up a little, bites his bottom lip, looks a little distant. There’s less chat, fewer spontaneous smiles. She’s wondering whether to ask him what’s going on when he finally comes out with it himself._

_He’s been sitting alone on a bench in the garden, coffee mug in hand, staring at the ground, thinking. The same things are ricocheting around his head again and again, and he knows he has to let them out some time. Is reaching the point where the pain of holding them in is worse than the fear of letting them be spoken aloud. Johnny’s at school for another couple of hours, he and Julia both home, so he figures he needs to get on and do it. Even though he’s not sure what he’s going to say. Stands and walks into the kitchen, where Julia’s looking in the cupboards for a snack. She closes the cupboard door as she sees him._

JULIA – Hey.

QUINN – Can I talk to you?

JULIA – Sure. You OK?

QUINN – Can we sit down?

JULIA – Sure.

_He walks through to the living room. Sits on the sofa. She sits beside him._

JULIA – What is it?

QUINN – I need to… to talk about work. My work. Things that happened.

JULIA – OK.

QUINN – It’s just… You know we talked about when I was recruited? About how young I was?

JULIA – Yeah.

QUINN – I keep thinking about it. And I think I need to just say some stuff.

JULIA – OK.

QUINN – So…

_He takes a deep breath. Thinks a while. The longer this next conversation goes on, the harder he finds it to speak. The aphasia, the apraxia, the stutter and the sheer weight of emotion – they all rise up at once, meaning he stops and starts, backs up and hesitates, tangles and untangles words in his mouth as he goes. It’s hard. But he’s not going to stop._

QUINN – Thing is… I always used to be... proud I was recruited. Like they saw something in me. But now, the more I think about it, the more I look at it from the outside, I just feel sad.

JULIA – Oh, honey.

QUINN – I don’t think they looked at me and thought “He’s super smart, he’s the perfect spy”. I think they just thought... he’s the one we can take. The one from the children’s home who everyone at school thought was weird. Who won’t realise, when we do bad things to him, that it’s wrong. Who nobody will miss. Who is so fucking starved of love, that if we pay him a little attention, he’ll be like… _(he taps his palm, searching for the word)_ putty. In our hands.

JULIA – Baby…

QUINN – Julia, I have a big thing to tell you.

JULIA – OK.

_She’s daunted. Quinn was an assassin, he shot a child, he was gassed, shot, nearly died... she knows all those things - what could he possibly be about to tell her that surpasses that already insane list?_

QUINN – I... it’s the kind of thing I would usually tell Kerry. But I… I... I wanna tell you first.

JULIA – That’s OK.

QUINN – Because I think I might need a hug right after. From you.

JULIA – Well I am right on board with that. You can have a hug whenever you need it.

_Her stomach is doing somersaults. What the fuck is coming?_

QUINN – It’s about Dar. Who recruited me.

JULIA – OK.

QUINN – When we… when…

_He wells up, chokes._

_She strokes his leg._

JULIA – It’s OK.

QUINN – When he found me, I was living a rough life. Really, really rough.

_She just sits._

I was turning tricks. For money.

_She reels a little._

JULIA – Oh.

QUINN – I was starving. I had nothing.

_She’s sitting alongside him on the sofa, but now she turns 90 degrees, right round to face him, cross-legged, gives him her full attention. He stays looking straight ahead, so she’s looking at him in profile._

QUINN – He was kind to me.

JULIA – Well, good.

QUINN – Not _really_ kind. Not genuinely. He wasn’t doing it for me. He gave me what I needed. Food. Attention. Drugs. He... he _made_ me need him.

Not many people ever did good things for me before that.

_He looks down at his lap._

I looked forward so much to him coming around. Coming to visit me. Bringing me shit. Telling me how great I was. Making me feel special.

I…

_Looks up to the corner of the room. Sniffs hard. Gulps._

I kind of… fell in love with him. I think.

_He’s looking away from her now as he speaks._

Not real love. I guess. I mean… I didn’t know what was happening. I just… I kind of adored him. He told me I was smart. That he could give me work, I could travel, I could be someone.

 

We did stuff.

 

Together.

 

Like…

 

_A long pause._

 

_Finally, through gritted teeth, he growls with frustration._

 

Rrrrrrrrrrrrr.

 

JULIA – Just say it. Say the words.

QUINN – Sex. We had sex. I slept with him. Not just once. I _used_ to sleep with him.

_He can’t look at her._

I’d been turning tricks, I thought it was a relief to finally do it with someone who was kind to me. Who seemed to actually like me. Didn’t just throw a few bills in my face and leave. Rented nice hotel rooms and let me stay a few nights after he left. Big baths, as much food as I could eat. Clean sheets. People who looked at me like I was someone.

He used to stay, talk to me about the world, all the countries he’d been to, how they worked. And not like he was boasting about where he’d been – like he was teaching me. Like he really thought I needed to know all this for the life I had coming. Seemed incredible when I’d been sleeping on a mattress in a shitty squat, drinking myself to sleep the nights I had the money. It was like this guy turned up, opened a door to a room full of treasure and just held it open for me.

So yeah. We had a… relationship. I guess. Maybe not a relationship. We slept together. And we talked. Whatever that is. That’s what we had.

JULIA – You were sixteen?

QUINN – Yup.

JULIA – And he was?

QUINN – I dunno. Forty-something, I guess.

JULIA – Fuck.

QUINN – Yeah.

_Tears start to run down his cheeks now and he doesn’t try and hold them back. Rubs them with his hand but they keep coming._

It was abuse. I know it was. I mean... fuck, he was…

_Again he grits his teeth, it’s so awful to jump to saying this. But he steels himself…_

Like… a father figure. I guess. He must’ve known that. He was older than I am now. He must’ve known what he was doing. What kind of man goes out looking for kids as vulnerable as I was? And as young as I was? For _anything_?

_Julia wants to reach and take his hand, but he feels so far away. She thinks he might recoil, or jump. So she just listens._

I don’t know when I realised. How fucked up it was. I realise it more every day now, I think. But I still… even now, I find myself feeling grateful to him. I don’t want to but I find myself thinking, if he didn’t come get me, I’d still be there. Probably be dead. Feel grateful to him for choosing me. Somewhere inside me.

When I knew him, it was the first time I ever felt safe. In those hotel rooms. My life started then. That was the first time I ever felt like the person I am now. He gave me that. Sometimes I still… I don’t know. I feel…

 

_He shrugs. He just can’t put into words the contradictory mass of feelings inside him. The love and the loathing._

 

_Turns a little towards her, but doesn’t raise his eyes to look at her. Stares at her lap, his eyes red, swollen, face smeared with tears, snot._

 

_So now, she reaches gently out and takes his hand, strokes it._

 

_He sniffs hard. Whispers._

I guess I feel like he made me.

_Sniffs again. Breathes._

Because everything I did after that was the same. He was in control. Even when I wasn’t a kid any more.

I always used to be proud of what I did. In the CIA. Despite how it ended up. Thought it mattered.

But now I think... I dunno. I’m in this normal life now. And I look at Johnny and he’s so small, and I realise even more how fucked up it all was. That job, that whole life I had, only happened because I was a nobody, someone they could push around, do the worst to. Turn into whoever they wanted.

And if that was all bad, if I don’t have that to look back on – don’t have all the things I did, a good job, a career to be proud of, what do I have? All this – he touches his left hand - was even more meaningless. What was the point?

_Finally, he looks up at her. Just for a split second at first, just long enough to see if she’s horrified, or recoiling, or disgusted, before he looks back down. Then, finally, a longer look. Does the hardest thing: Looks her in the eye. She holds his gaze, trying not to cry herself. She takes a deep breath, exhales. Looks at him a beat longer, and raises her arms to him. He crumbles with relief – slides across and sinks into them. Lets himself slump into her, gives up any pretence of holding himself up and drops totally into her embrace. She holds him. Breathing. Thinking. Stroking him gently as he cries. Letting a couple of tears of her own fall at last now that he can’t see them. Eventually, he becomes still, and she speaks, softly._

JULIA – So… can I just hold you, and tell you what I think?

_He nods. He’s curled right up in her arms, the way she held Johnny when he was small and sick, or tired, or upset._

You know, two things can be true at once. More than two. They can have recruited you because you were vulnerable and _also_ because they could see you were incredibly smart. Because Dar... I dunno. Because he wanted to prey on you... but also because he knew knew you’d be a natural at the job. He might have got close to you… because he wanted to use you, but also because he genuinely liked you.

And also, you can hate some of the things Dar did, but still be glad that he got you out of your old life. Be relieved that someone showed up out of the blue in that shitty world who could set you on the path to something better.

_She sniffs softly, wipes her cheek then places her arm back round him._

And just because it started out bad doesn’t mean the whole thing was bad. Dar didn’t make you. He might have started you, but he didn’t make you. You took control of it and you became strong and powerful and you _chose_ to carry on with it because you believed in it. Not because of Dar, but because you believed in our country. In your work. In yourself. You made yourself.

_Her left arm is around his shoulders, she wraps her right arm now around his head, holds it close to her, rests her own head in his hair. So close to him. He can feel her words seeping into him through his skin as well as hear them flowing down over his head._

I mean, Johnny, there are a lot of different ways to tell your story and you’re choosing the worst. The saddest. If I had to tell someone your life story, it wouldn’t be that. It would be that you started out with nothing. And nobody. And you rose, on your own wits, to become someone so courageous, so well-connected, that you saved the life of the President of the United States of America. And you risked your own life to do it.

That’s very much not meaningless.

Honestly… I know I’m biased. I’m in love with every last little bit of you. But you’re the bravest guy I know. And the man with the _most_ meaningful… the most… _noble_ life of anyone I have ever met.

_She leans round a little to look at his face. Squeezes him. Rubs his wet, sticky cheek with her fingers. Smiles just a little._

Even if you don’t feel very noble right now.

_They sit together for a long, long time._

 

\----

 

_He stirs a little. Turns himself, still a little slumped, but moves to lean on the back of the sofa, free up Julia a little. She stretches her arm, gets the blood flow back, then places a hand on his lap._

JULIA – How you feeling?

_He blinks slowly. No reply._

Sad?

_He nods._

And pretty fucking exhausted?

QUINN – Yeah.

JULIA – You know... I think this is... I’m so proud of you.

QUINN – What?

_He can’t believe that word – proud? Shame is the only thing he feels._

JULIA – I just... Look, ever since I knew you... especially since you came back... it’s like, you think less of yourself than anyone else does. You thought I could never love you again. You think people will look down on you if they see you using a cane. You’re surprised when Steve doesn’t freak out that you have PTSD. Like you think you’re some kind of monster.

But everyone who meets you, loves you.

And I feel like... maybe for a long time, you’ve thought your life was just what you deserved.

The fact you’re sitting here now, telling me that what happened to you was wrong... without anyone else having to point that out to you... it feels like... you finally realise you deserve some respect. You deserved a decent life, and you didn’t get it, and that was wrong.

_He nods slowly. Speaks quietly._

QUINN – Maybe.

_She smiles, squeezes his hand._

_He exhales sharply. Suddenly sits upright._

QUINN – I need to do something else.

JULIA – What do you mean?

QUINN – Now. This evening. Something else. Just stop thinking about this. Do something good.

Move this _(taps his head)_ on.

JULIA – What you thinking of?

QUINN – I dunno. Something busy. Not sad.

JULIA – Well… ah... _(she thinks, trying to get to grips with this sudden gear change. Then a thought occurs...)_ OK. You know, Johnny keeps saying he wants you to go the Y with him some day. Could do that. He’d be beside himself if you did.

_He looks at her, wondering. He’s resisted this up until now. Embarrassed to expose his scar-riddled chest and belly, his limp, his arm, knowing he’d need his cane to get across the wet tiles to the pool._

_But maybe that’s what he needs. Something challenging enough to distract him fully. Something all about making Johnny happy, not about himself. Something new, and positive, and about the man he is now._

QUINN – Yeah. Good. I should do that.

JULIA – Really?

QUINN – Yeah. I think so. Yeah.

JULIA – OK. Well, school finishes in a half hour. Why don’t we go get him, surprise him, take him straight there? We'll all go.

QUINN – Yeah. Good.

JULIA – That’s great, honey. You sure you feel up to it?

QUINN – Yeah. Thank you. I will talk to Kerry about this. I promise. Not ignoring it. But I need… Just a bit at a time.

JULIA – I know. That’s fine. Totally fine. I’ll go find our things. You go splash some water on your face.

 

\----

 

_He’s waiting at the school gates, hand in hand with Julia. Saying Hi to the other parents as they pass one another. Feeling strangely proud that he knows them, that this is his territory now, that Julia’s accompanying him, not the other way around._

 

_The school doors are suddenly flung open, kids starts pouring out. He watches the stream of little people heading towards them._

 

_He catches sight of Johnny in the crowd, sees Johnny spot him. Just as he smiles and waves, and sees Johnny start to run towards him, the sun comes out from behind the clouds, and warms his face._

 


	13. Five little moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought we could use these short cuts after the heavy lifting of the last chapter. Just moments, taking place any time after they’ve all moved in together. None of them big enough to be whole stories, just intimate moments together.
> 
> No. 3 is a little present for GiuliaM after her comment on [Chapter 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504904/chapters/34256870)… Just because (I confess) I read your comment and thought "Nice, but I'll never write that, it's too cheerful"! And then it kind of came knocking, so here it is :)

1.

_He starts to stir in bed. Julia’s half awake already and this pulls her right up out of sleep._

_He’s making small sounds, jerking a little. But more like a dream than a seizure. She watches him, wondering whether to leave him or wake him. The movement becomes a little more pronounced, but the noises don’t sound too panicked yet._

_She lies right next to him, as close as she can, slides her arms around him, and pulls him to her, holds him close. He jerks a little, is still for a moment, then the previous sound and motion resume._

_Still holding him, she wriggles herself into a sitting position, leaning against the pillows. She’s cradling him now, like a baby, looking down at him. She strokes his forehead. Leans over him and makes soothing noises._  

JULIA – It’s OK, baby. It’s OK. You’re safe. It’s OK.

 _Leans down, kisses his forehead._  

Shhhh.

_His movements still._

_She stays as she is for a while, watching. He’s breathing deeply, softly, slowly._

_Slides further down in the bed, still holding him. With him wrapped in her arms, falls asleep, her head against his._

.

 

.

 

.

 

_He wakes with a start. Unsure for a moment where he is. Something underneath him. Arms around him. Hands on his hands. Small hands. Turns his hand over to feel. Julia. Their heads are together. She’s asleep. He inhales. Loves her smell. No idea how he ended up in her arms, but he lies there a while, feeling her against him, stroking his hand against hers. Drifts back to sleep._

 

 

2.

_The kitchen. Late evening. Lights low. Radio on. Johnny in bed. They’re just finishing up tidying, cleaning._

_He steps up close behind her. Slides his arm round her waist, strokes her tummy gently. Snuggles his chin down onto her shoulder. Smiles._

QUINN – Hi.

_She leans back into him, turns her face towards his a touch, smiles._

JULIA – Hey.

_He kisses her neck, rests his chin back on her shoulder, leans his head into hers._

_Without turning, she reaches her left hand down and takes his left hand, lifts it up to her waist, holds it against her belly, next to his right hand. Would never try and move his left arm without his permission otherwise – but they both know and love this move, the ability it gives them both to hug fully, for him to encircle her in a way he never otherwise can._

_He closes his eyes. Feels like a jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces in place._

QUINN – Mmmmmm.

_They sway together to the music._

 

3. 

_A river._

_Wide._

_Slow._

_Quiet._

_Hot._

_In the cool of the trees by the bank, a small camp._

_Four folding chairs. The two centre ones occupied: Quinn in one, Steve in the other. The two either side of them empty._

_Four rods, on stands, lines out in the river. Quinn’s is small, lightweight. Fits, when it needs to, into a harness he and Steve devised and made, that hangs off his belt, which - together with a second, taller stand which waits nearby - lets him reel it in one-handed. Steve’s rod heavier duty. Either side of them, two smaller rods._

_Quinn’s legs stretched ahead of him. Cap pulled down over his eyes. Dozing._

_Steve leaning forward, tying some flies, won’t use them today, but enjoys the process._

_Further up the bank, Johnny and Louis. Lying on their backs in the grass. Got bored of the rods and ran off a while ago, laughing, chasing each other, no doubt scaring off every fish within a half mile as they went. Now the heat has got the better of them and they’re stretched out in the shade. Occasionally making grass missiles to fire at each other. Feet bare, tops off, wearing only their shorts and a light covering of dusty earth and grass seeds._

_Johnny looks round. Stretches out his arm to flatten the long grass next to him, get a clearer view._

JOHNNY – Dad!

_A pause. Quinn stirs. Pushes up the peak of his cap, looks round._

JOHNNY – Any fish?

_Quinn looks idly out at the river. Back to Johnny._

QUINN – Nope.

 

_The afternoon passes slowly by._

 

 4.

_He submerges himself slowly in the deep, warm water. Tips his head back, hair and ears in, sinks right down til his mouth is only just above the surface, his body immersed. Closes his eyes. Smiles as he feels the heat seep deep into his bones._

_One of the great discoveries of his new life has been the joy of a hot bath._

_Barely had a decent bath in his life before, apart from those occasional soaks at the hotels Dar booked him into when they first met. Never when Dar was there, but after he'd gone, Quinn would head straight through, turn the taps, pour in all the bubbles and lie there. But he'd pushed the memory of those away to the back of his mind. So much else was going on at the time he could barely remember them now. No recollection of how they felt._

_What had passed for a bath through most of his childhood was a few inches of tepid, shared water, a quick splash and then a rough towelling dry._

_After that, after Dar's hotel rooms, he just showered. Short, sharp, functional. Occasionally found himself standing under the shower for longer, trying to wash away the memory of something he wanted to forget. But was barely aware of himself when that happened. Sometimes weeks, even months, would pass when he was in the field with little more than an occasional splash at a tap or a broken pipe. Never even occurred to him that getting clean could be anything more than a chore._

_But one day when he was in pain, his muscles tight, Julia had persuaded him to take a bath to see if it helped. Had to help him clamber in and out. He'd lowered himself into the water with her help, feeling a little strange, like this was some weird trick she was playing on him. But as the warm water rose up around his shoulders, he couldn’t believe how good it felt. So much so that Julia laughed out loud at the look of amazement on his face. Grinned, as she said_

JULIA – Good?

QUINN – Good. Oh.

Good.

 

Gooood.

_So now, he takes the chance of a bath whenever he can. Even when he’s feeling fine. The warmth, the weightlessness, the sense that the whole world has come to a stop and will wait for him to emerge before it starts again… they all make him deeply happy. Can’t quite believe something so simple can feel so good._

_So he lies there, listening to his breathing. Feeling the edge of the water around his face. Notices out of the corner of his eye that he’d missed one of Johnny’s toys when he cleared out the bath. A rubber duck in a cowboy hat sits on the side, just a few inches from his head. Reaches up and taps it into the water, puts his arm back beneath._

_Lies there, motionless, smiling, as the duck bobs cheerfully past his face._

 

 

5. 

_He wakes. Just half awake at first. Confused. He can hear a strange noise. Peels his eyes open a little wider. Sees Julia’s outline, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her back to him. She’s been on a late shift, must have just come in, he was in a deep sleep._

_He’s about to speak but something stops him – lies a few moments longer, still sleepy, trying to work out what’s happening. Something’s wrong. That sound._

_He waits, until he feels awkward watching her._

QUINN – Hey.

_She turns round, a heavy sniff. Whispers._

JULIA – Hey sorry.

_Wipes her nose with the back of her hand, turns quickly away from him again._

JULIA – Didn’t mean to wake you.

_The penny drops. She’s crying._

_He sits up, tangled in the covers but does his best to scoot across the bed towards her._

QUINN – What is it?

JULIA – Nothing, sorry. Go back to sleep.

QUINN – No. What’s up?

_She sniffs again, tries to bring it to a stop, but it overtakes her and she starts to sob._

_He’s on the bed, half behind her, half beside her, his legs awkward, caught up in sheets, but finally does it, gets across the bed, drops his legs over the side, takes her hand._

QUINN – Baby.

_She turns and buries her head in his shoulder and he holds her. Runs his hand gently up and down her back, as she’s done for him so many times._

It’s OK. It’s OK.

_At length, she takes a deep breath, sits up, rubs her face._

QUINN – What happened?

JULIA – Just… a bad shift. Just… everything.

_He holds his arm aloft and she leans into him again. He kisses the top of her head, rests his head on top of hers. Hates seeing her pain, but also grateful to have the chance to comfort her the way she’s held him up so many times._

_He whispers._

QUINN – It’s OK. I love you. I love you. It’ll all be OK.


	14. Julia's birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of scrappy, lots of little bits and pieces patched together (like Julia's quilting metaphor in the story!) and it kind of covers ground we've covered before. So I think it could be better, but I finally have some time and just want to get something up, so will post as it is! I think it's the last of the odd ones I have lined up before I embark on the tale of baby Katy's arrival...

_It’s Julia’s birthday. This morning, she was banished to the living room while the boys clattered around in the kitchen, laughing together, ‘secretly’ making her a birthday cake – though clearly having more fun together in there than she was having on the sofa on her own, but she put her feet up and tried to make the most of it._

_Eventually, she was summoned through to the kitchen, where the blinds were down, and Johnny stood, in the middle of the room, concentrating hard on holding the cake straight, candles alight, as the pair of them sang Happy Birthday, and – feigning surprise – Julia went in and blew out the candles._

_Now the three of them are sitting around the kitchen table, talking and laughing, a huge wedge of the cake already eaten, crumbs on plates, wrapping paper from gifts discarded on the table._

_Quinn stands, and reaches for an envelope from the top shelf. Hands it to Julia._

QUINN – And this is from me.

JULIA – Oh!

_She grins._

Thank you.

_Runs a finger under the flap, lifts it, pulls out some papers._

_It’s a reservation – for the fanciest spa in town. A weekend break._

QUINN – I wanted you to relax. You never stop. Always looking after us.

JULIA – Johnny, this is... it’s amazing.

QUINN – You’re going with your mom. She’s free. I called her.

JULIA – You called my mom?

_He nods, bashfully, so pleased with himself. She’s amazed. He never calls her mom. He’s shy, and a guy, and stutters on the phone. He points to Anita’s name on the reservation.  
_

QUINN – Yeah. She’s free. She’s on there. She knows.

JULIA – Oh honey, this is amazing.

Will you guys be OK on your own?

QUINN – Sure. We’ll have fun.

JULIA – OK.

_He grins again._

QUINN – Also, I called Carmen. She’s gonna come stay in the spare room. We _would_ be fine on our own, but... so that you don’t worry, Carmen’s coming to hang out with us. So you can relax.

JULIA – Holy cow, is there anyone you didn’t call?

_He grins from ear to ear, like a little boy who’s made a card for his mom. So proud of himself, and so pleased she likes it._

\----

_Saturday morning. Loungers by the pool, Julia and Anita relaxing. They came to the hotel last night, had dinner and a good night’s sleep. This morning they had a massage, now there’s time to kill before lunch. Julia’s lying back, Anita comes over with a couple of magazines, hands one to Julia, sits back herself._

ANITA - Ahhh. Well this is a very fine way to spend a weekend. You should get older more often.

JULIA – I still can’t believe Johnny fixed all this.

ANITA - I think you landed a good one. This time, anyway.

_Julia looks at her mom._

JULIA – Huh. Thank you for saying that. Have you stopped worrying about me now?

_Anita laughs._

ANITA - I’ll always worry about you honey, it’s my job.

But... yeah, worrying about you being with John again? I think I’m gonna strike that off my list now.

_Julia nods. This is kind of a good thing, but it’s also a little galling it’s only getting struck off now._

ANITA - Baby, you know I was skeptical. You can’t blame me after what he did to you and Johnny.

But… he does seem to have sorted himself out. And you seem very happy.

JULIA – Yeah. I am.

\----

_After lunch, they’re back in the room. Julia’s sitting on the bed, looking on her phone, flicking through photos._

 ANITA - You missing the boys?

_She smiles apologetically._

JULIA – Sorry. Yeah.

_Her mom gives her a long, fond look._

_Thinks for a few moment._

ANITA - You know, they could come out here, Julia. Johnny would _love_ that pool.

_Julia’s face lights up._

JULIA – You think?

You wouldn’t mind?

ANITA - Of course not! Get to see my little guy? You kidding me? I could take care of Johnny, give you guys a little time together. You deserve it.

JULIA – Expensive though.

ANITA - Well, do you have the money? If you want it, and you have the money, it’s not expensive. You can’t take it with you, Julia. No pockets in a shroud.

_She grins. Dials._

\----

_He’s stripped to his trunks, sitting in a changing cubicle. Still not quite used to this. Been to the Y a couple of times with Johnny now but still feels a bit of a freak. And this spa is so damn fancy, makes him feel even more conspicuous. Most people at the Y pay no attention to him, he knows it’s mostly in his mind. There was that one guy, ran his eyes slowly up from Quinn’s leg, up his torso, and then looked him in the eye – Quinn saw it – the moment when he realised who Quinn was, remembered the video, had to struggle to cover the shock that crossed his features. As they passed one another, the guy just dropped his head a little, and said softly “Thank you for your service.” Nice sentiment, but the scrutiny that led up to it not really what he wanted. Anyway._

_Still takes him a couple of deep breaths to be able to face the world in just his trunks. He looks down at himself, runs his fingers lightly down his torso. Scars everywhere._

_Reminds himself of that time in front of the mirror, back when he and Julia first got together. The idea of his body as a sign of the love and care poured into it by so many doctors and nurses and others. Feels bad that he should feel shame over their handiwork._

_Leans over, rubbing his fingertips over one of his scars, looks closely enough that he can just make out a pinprick of scar tissue alonside the main wound. A stitch mark. Places his finger right over it, thinks about how somewhere, out there, is the person who made that stitch. Literally sewed him back together. Pictures the grave-faced medical staff, standing over the inert body of a man who had nearly just bled to death, been repaired in surgery, pumped full of antibiotics, all working on him with intense concentration, no idea if he’d make it through or fall prey to a raging infection._

_Breathes. Fuck, he’s supposed to be here having fun, sometimes the rabbit warrens his mind dives into…  
_

_Stands, shakes himself a little to snap himself out of it. Thinks of Julia, how she called him out here. Wants nothing more than for him to walk out of this changing room, scars and all, and join her in the pool._

JOHNNY – _(Outside the cubicle)_ Dad, come ON!

_Grins, grabs his cane, and walks out with Johnny to the poolside._

\----

_Their hotel room. Anita and Johnny now sharing the original twin, Julia and Quinn together in a newly-reserved double. Anita and Johnny had an early dinner together and early bedtime, then Julia and Quinn ate together later, a fancy three course meal and drinks in the bar. Enjoying being out somewhere so swish with no hurry to get home. The unaccustomed exercise in the pool now taking its toll on Quinn, he feels a little shitty that such a nice day should end with him struggling back down the corridor, cramp spreading through his foot, ankle, leg._

_When they reach the room, he kicks his shoes off, flops back on the bed._

JULIA – How you doing?

_He shrugs._

QUINN – Good. Little sore.

JULIA – Can I rub?

QUINN – Yeah. My…. _(waves his hand at it as he gropes for the word)_ … my foot would be good.

_She sits down, pulls off both his socks, rolls up his left trouser leg and unfastens his splint, drops it on the floor. Lifts his left foot into her lap, and begins to stretch it and rub it._

JULIA – That OK?

QUINN – Yeah. Good.

_They sit in silence for a few moments while she works._

_She sighs happily._

JULIA – It’s so nice to have a break.

QUINN – Good. You deserve it. I’m sorry I’m... kind of a burden sometimes.

JULIA – Whoah. What? No. Don’t you dare go there. We’re not doing self pity, not on my birthday weekend.

QUINN – Sorry.

_They sit in silence for a moment again, but she needs to unpack it._

JULIA – What do you mean, burden? How are you a burden?

QUINN – Well… Before I came back you could just look after you and Johnny. Now... you got me too. And I’m complicated. It’s like you got two kids to look after.

_She sighs._

JULIA – Jesus.

Sometimes I really wonder what’s going on in your head. I mean... I get it, you never had anyone looking after you before, so it feels weird to you... like there’s something not right. But this is normal life. I promise you. People taking care of each other. This is how the world works. When you’re not an assassin.

_He purses his lips a little, thinking._

You really think my life was simple before you got here? You kidding me? My life was a non-stop battle to keep balls in the air. I work shifts, Johnny’s in school. I had Carmen, my mom, after school club, Steve and Ava stepping in for emergencies.

Just keeping Johnny safe and looked after was... like trying to stitch some kind of crazy patchwork quilt together with someone pulling it away from me the whole time. Constantly feeling like I was gonna turn round one day and realise I’d left him somewhere on his own. Worrying he was gonna see how frayed I was at the edges. Shouting at him because I was so tired and on edge the whole damn time.

Now I don’t have to do any of that. I mean… yeah, would’ve been great if it had happened from day one, if you’d stayed, but we are where we are. And I swear, my shoulders are about six inches lower now you’re here. The stuff you do to contribute to this family has changed my life. All our lives.

QUINN – I don’t do much.

JULIA – You look after him. That’s the one thing a child needs. It’s everything.

QUINN – But I _like_ looking after him.

JULIA – EXACTLY!

QUINN – What?

_He’s bewildered._

JULIA – Looking after someone you love is a privilege, not a chore. So let me look after you. And stop apologising when you need it.

_He tilts his head on one side, letting this filter through. She waits, too, can almost hear pennies dropping inside._

_Eventually, a small grin appears on one side of his face._

QUINN – I guess.

_She picks up a pillow and, jokingly, hits him with it, laughing._

JULIA – I despair of you, sometimes. You miserable bastard.

_He laughs too. Pushes the pillow off and reaches up towards her..._

QUINN – C’mere and look after me, then.

_She grins and flops down beside him and they hug._

QUINN – You’re pretty damn privileged, you know, all this caring you get to do... you should thank me, really.

JULIA – Oh, I’m _very_ grateful.

QUINN – Wanna pay me back?

_He reaches down and slides his fingers in the top of her waistband, curls his fingers round her butt, grins. She grins back, reaches up, fingers to his cheeks, and kisses him…._


	15. When Katy Came Along - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time for our little Quinn Diaz shaped bundle of joy to appear on the horizon...

_Julia and Quinn, lying on the sofa together. Glasses of wine, full stomachs, both sleepy and happy, their favourite way to end the day – a day that ends like this, is a day where Julia’s not had a long shift, where Quinn’s not retired early feeling ill or sore or tired or depressed: A day that has folded in all the right places._

_Talking about their days, laughing as they share stories about Johnny – Quinn may have been late on the scene, but he makes up for it by seeing so much of his son now, always has some funny story from the day, and Julia reciprocates with a story from his earlier childhood – a blissful, relaxed way to mend some of the gaps in their family history, to heal._

_She’s lying on her back on top of Quinn, laughing. He puts his hand on her tummy, and laughs -_

QUINN – Oh God...I love how your belly moves when you laugh...

_He laughs, which makes her laugh, which makes her belly move, which makes him laugh again... they lie there for a while doing this, until her laughter finally subsides and she sighs happily, her hands over his hand, spread across her belly._

_She looks down at it._

_Thinks for a moment._

JULIA – You ever think...

QUINN – What?

JULIA – About putting a little baby in here?

_He’s surprised._

_Sits up a little._

QUINN – Do you?

JULIA – Yeah.

_She rolls round to look at him._

JULIA – We could.

I mean... maybe. I’m not as young as I was, but I’m not over the hill yet.

QUINN – Huh. Yeah.

JULIA – Just... I think about it sometimes. Always figured we’d have another, way back when. Then I got used to it being just me and Johnny.

Me and Roger talked about it but I don’t think he was ever serious.

Makes me feel sad to think that I might never have another baby. But it’s a big gap. Ten, eleven years apart, it’s not like they’d play together all day. Might just be a lot of hard work.

_She finally makes herself stop babbling, stop covering up his silence._

What you thinking?

_He smiles, places his hand back over her belly._

QUINN – I dunno.

I dunno.

_They lie there quietly a little while. She figures she’s talked enough, doesn’t want to talk over him, but he’s quiet too. Eventually...._

QUINN – Might be nice. We should think.

JULIA – Sure.

_She kisses him, snuggles in for a cuddle, waits to see if he’ll say any more, but he doesn’t._

\----

_It’s months later – after Julia’s birthday weekend at the spa – when she has to leap out of bed and run to the bathroom to throw up for the first time._

_Quinn is oblivious, worried that she’s sick. She lies back down, gulping deep breaths of air, thinking it’s probably a bug, but something at the back of her mind racing. She persuades Quinn to go off and get Johnny up for school, so she can lie there and think._

_She’s been taking the pill as ever, but she wouldn’t be the first woman to get pregnant while on the pill. Someone's gotta be in that one per cent. Wishes she’d pushed Quinn more before now to talk about the idea of a baby so she’d have an idea what he really thought.  
_

_When it happens again the next morning, she just knows, with stone cold certainty, that she’s pregnant. Doesn’t tell him straight off, buys a pregnancy test during the day._

_Quinn goes off to lie down early shortly after dinner and she curses inwardly, thinking he might be asleep before she gets up there. But when she goes in, he’s sitting in bed, reading._

JULIA – Hey, how you feeling?

QUINN – Yeah, OK, just tired.

How are _you_? Your tummy really better?

_She sits on the bed, touched by his innocence, but also worried by what he might say._

JULIA – Johnny...

_He looks at her, curious..._

I think I might be pregnant.

_His eyebrows shoot up to the top of his forehead._

_His jaw drops._

QUINN – Oh!

Really?

_He realises - the early morning sickness._

Oh. Of course. I mean... aren’t you...

JULIA – I’m on the pill. But it happens, occasionally. I mean, I might be wrong...

_She knows - just knows - that she’s not._

Anyway. I bought a kit, so....

_He nods slowly, mouth open, taking it in._

QUINN – Holy cow. OK. You wanna do it?

JULIA – Yeah. I gotta go pee on it, then we wait three minutes.

QUINN – OK.

_She stands, goes through to the bathroom, sits on the toilet, takes it out of the packet and holds it down between her legs, marvelling that such a messy, inauspicious act should be the universal herald of new life._

_Finishes, shakes it off, wipes, and goes back through._

_Sits on the bed, holding it._

JULIA – I gotta put it out of sight.... I can’t just watch.

_She hides it in the nightstand, sets the timer on her watch._

_Climbs up beside him on the bed. She’s on his left side, picks his arm up and places his hand gently in her lap so she can scooch in close to him._

QUINN – You OK?

JULIA – Yeah. I don’t know what to think.

QUINN – Yeah. How long now?

JULIA – 2 minutes 30.

_They sit, side by side, lost in their own thoughts, until the alarm goes off. She switches it off. Looks at him._

JULIA – Ready?

_He smiles tentatively._

QUINN – No.

_She reaches down for it, brings it up and holds it between them. Two blue lines._

_She looks up at him, an uncontrollable grin spreading across her face. He looks blank._

QUINN – Which is it?

JULIA – I’m pregnant.

_He stares at her. It won’t sink in. He feels frozen, doesn’t know what to do or say, his brain just won’t move._

_She starts to cry, still grinning, but also looking at him, willing him to smile back at her._

_Several beats pass, probably only a few seconds but feels like a lifetime for both of them..._

_then..._

_finally..._

 

QUINN – Oh God...

_Suddenly a wall of emotion hits him and he has no idea what emotion it is, but it’s enough to bring them together - he smiles and cries all at once, reaches up and hugs her to him, feels so utterly protective of her, wants to keep her in the circle of his arm forever and hold her safe, kisses the top of her head, feels like this woman, his love, always the strongest woman in the world to him, is suddenly made of porcelain and he has to keep her safe._

_Eventually they pull apart a little and he looks down at her, still all at sea, no idea what’s going on in his head but wanting to get it right._

QUINN – A baby?

_She grins again and nods, leans in and hugs him again as he breathes and breathes and breathes and tries to make his brain work this out._


	16. When Katy Came Along - Part Two

_Quinn’s sitting on the side of the bed, staring at the floor. He came up to get ready for bed, but has been sat there for ten minutes without moving, lost in thought. Julia comes in._

JULIA – You OK?

_He starts._

QUINN – Yeah. Yeah.

_Leans down to pull his socks off._

_Julia looks serious. Comes and sits in the chair by the bed, looking at him._

JULIA – Johnny.

QUINN – Yeah?

JULIA – What is it?

QUINN – What?

JULIA – You tell me. You’ve hardly spoken to me today. Every day since we found out I was pregnant, you say less and less. What’s going on?

_He looks at his feet._

_A long silence._

JULIA – Is it the baby?

_He still stares at his feet._

JULIA – You gotta talk to me, Johnny. If you don’t want this, you have to say.

QUINN – I just…  ( _shakes his head)._

_She is near the end of her tether. She’s used to putting up with the time it takes him sometimes to think, to speak, to work out what he’s feeling. But frankly, she is right out of patience. She wants him to be as overjoyed as she is with the news of the baby, but he’s just closing down and she really doesn’t have time for his shit now. After months of helping him, with a baby now growing inside of her, she’s about ready to start putting herself first for a change._

JULIA – Do I have to guess? Just fucking say it. Whatever it is can't be worse than this silence.

QUINN – I… don't think I can do it.

JULIA – Do what?

_Now it's his turn to be pissed off. Why doesn't she get it? Isn't it obvious? He grabs his left wrist with his right hand, lifts his paralysed hand and arm up in front of her, shakes it at her._

QUINN – What the fuck do you think? Look at me. Look at this. How can I look after a baby?

JULIA – Johnny...

QUINN – How do I… p-p-pick it up, change a diaper, feed it, all that shit? I can’t do it. And what if I have a seizure while I’m holding it? Drop it, fall on it. And no sleep. My… _(points at his head in frustration, looking for the word…)_ in here. Can't think, can't talk with no sleep. If it's really no sleep, then seizures, flashbacks. What if that happens when I'm looking after it? What if it screams and I get a flashback? I'm the worst possible father. Physically, mentally, every way.

JULIA – This has all been going on inside of you all week, and you couldn't say anything?

_He looks down at himself, rubs the back of his hand._

QUINN – It's... all of me. All the things that are wrong... they're _more_ wrong if we have a baby. I was just starting to think I was all right, I can do what I need to do, but now... all my broken things matter again, more.

_She sighs. It’s a heart-rending admission from him, but just as Johnny has always been her number one priority, now the baby joins him in first place. She’s not going to allow self pity, or even justifiable sorrow, from Quinn to intrude into this conversation. Practicalities first._

JULIA – Well. You know people with all kinds of disabilities have kids. You cannot be the first. Can’t we just ask for help and see what's out there before we decide it’s impossible?

I mean… firstly, all that stuff only matters when they’re really small. You can parent Johnny just fine. And let’s face it, I got _him_ through that time on my own. I can do it again if I have to.

QUINN – No. I don’t want you having to raise another child on your own because I’m too shit to be father.

JULIA – You’re not shit. And I’m not saying that. I’m saying we know we could cope in the absolute worst case scenario where I had to do most of the parenting for a while. Everything you could do, would be a bonus on last time. And actually, I don’t think it would be as bad as you think. I think you’re panicking. Freaking out a little. Every father does.

QUINN – You don’t know how it feels to be like me. Know I can’t do stuff. Be scared I might hurt someone. When I lose it, seizures, flashbacks, I have no idea. I can’t control it. Babies are so tiny.

_She moves over to sit beside him on the bed._

JULIA – If we could wave a magic wand tomorrow and give you back your health, would you want this baby?

QUINN – Yes. Yes yes yes. But we can’t, Ju. We can’t do that. No wand.

JULIA – OK. So let’s work things out first. Educate ourselves. They got… what, occupational therapists at the hospital?

QUINN – Yup.

JULIA – So let’s ask. Make an appointment with your doctor, tell him what’s going on. Be honest with him about everything you’re worried about and see what he says.

If he says “No way, you can’t raise a baby,” then fine. But I don’t think he will. I think he’ll say – it’s good you’re concerned. Here’s someone who can show you how to change a diaper with one hand, this is what I think about dealing with your seizures.

We can’t be the first Johnny, we just can’t. And if we have to accept help sometimes to fill the gaps, that's not a problem. That's not a reason not to have a child that we both want.

\----

_A few days later._

_He sits on the front step. Still his default place to go when things are bad. They’ve talked about building a porch, putting a comfortable chair out there, somewhere he’d actually enjoy being when he feels rough – Steve’s gonna come over with a couple of guys from the hardware store where he works, get them a quote. But for now, Quinn just sits on the step. Leans his left side against the corner post for support and stares out at the street._

_He loves Julia so much. Hates being at odds with her. But also feels like she’s running away with things, making plans without accounting for him. Like maybe she’s never “got” him as much as he thought, doesn’t actually really understand what it’s like being him, stuck with the body and the mind he now has. Feels betrayed, distanced from her._

_Closes his eyes and listens to the trees. His favourite thing to do. Seems to free his brain from its moorings, let his thoughts roam more freely._

_He tries to calm his breathing, let his mind wander._

_Finds it turning up snapshots of Julia, jumbled, out of order, moments of their life together - as if his subconscious is flicking through its filing system, trying to understand this latest stumbling block, to square the circle, work out how their relationship suddenly seems to be so painfully out of joint._

\--

Standing in the bedroom of the apartment they shared first time around – Julia’s apartment, he’d moved in, never quite felt it was his own – staring at the pile of baby clothes and blankets growing by the day on the dresser as Julia shopped for Johnny’s arrival, panic rising in his throat, looking out the window – literally at the horizon – and feeling himself freeze inside.

\--

Julia visiting him at the VA, the unbelievable happiness of seeing her walk through the door of the dayroom as he sat, cloaked in clouds of greyness, in his wheelchair. Her arms reaching up to hold him when he cried, enveloping him in her softness, her smell, her comfort.

\--

The first time he ever saw her, across the bar. A basement dive near her precinct, out drinking with her work buddies, him alone on a stool, time to kill before the next call from Dar, drinking to try and lift his low mood. Next time she came to the bar she stood on her tiptoes to be heard by the bar tender, right next to him, and his tummy flipped over. They talked, each of them trying to act cooler than the other, pretending to be smart, hard, sharp. Him buying her a drink but being, in reality, so in awe of her that his fingers slipped, he spilt it, thank God, she’d laughed, mopped at him with the bar towel, their hard crusts both suddenly broken open and suddenly able to be sweet, stupid, adorable with each other in a way neither of them had been with anyone before.

\--

Julia helping him write to Helen for the first time, sitting with him at the kitchen table in his house next door, encouraging him to open up, to lay himself bare, making him feel safe enough to do it. Going above and beyond – working on those letters together the first time they had really come close again after co-parenting at arm’s length. Then driving him to meet his mom in the park, Julia waiting in the car for as long as it took, seeing the relief on her face as he walked back into the parking lot arm and arm with Helen, both beaming with joy.

\--

Going to see her at the playpark after he shot the kid in Caracas. Knowing she had, once, been his true safety net, hoping she might, possibly, still catch him, save him from the endless freefall he was in. Feeling her fingers curl into his as she realised his distress and reached gently for his hand.

\--

Walking back from her house to his after that first kiss in the kitchen, the first time after his stroke that it occurred to him he might not be a walking disaster area. Every romantic cliché at once buoying him back to his door – his feet on clouds, fireworks exploding, birds singing and the sun and the moon and the stars all out at once.

\--

And one more – Julia cradling Johnny in her arms in the hospital, exhausted and smiling, too tired and happy to shoo Quinn away when he turned up out of the blue, bearing Scrappy the bear as a gift for his baby son. Letting him take a photo with the Polaroid camera she’d brought with her, and then scrawling something on the bottom, handing it back and making him promise not to read it until he had left the hospital. Sitting in the parking lot, pulling the photo out of his pocket, and reading,

 

**XoX forever, Julia and John Jr  
**

 

and crying, right there in broad daylight, at the immensity of what he’d turned his back on.

\--

_A sudden shot of adrenaline to his heart. It hurts. He loves her so much. She’s loved him so much, shown it so many times. A decade of regret he’s lived for walking out, for missing her, for missing his beloved son and the years they could all have shared._

_What the fuck is he doing?_

_What the **fuck** is he doing?_

_Gets up, quickly as he can manage, and goes to the living room. A sense of urgency, throws the cushions around as he searches for his tablet. Eventually locates it, sits, flips up the cover, puts it on his lap and starts tapping._

\----

_A little later. Maybe 20, 30 minutes. Julia walks through the house._

JULIA – Johnny? John, you in here?

_She looks into the living room. He’s there, completely gripped by whatever he’s watching on his tablet._

JULIA – Johnny!

_He looks up in surprise._

JULIA – I’ve been calling you.

QUINN – Sorry.

_He points at the tablet._

QUINN – Look at this…

JULIA – What is it?

QUINN – This guy. Look…

_He scrolls back a little, shows her, a video of a man with one arm, demonstrating how to change his baby’s diaper. Cheerful, adept, matter of fact._

_She sits down next to him. She’s half watching the video, half looking at Quinn, the look of rapt attention on his face as he watches the guy, who’s leaning in to the baby, using his chest, shoulder, head, in places, to keep the baby still, wielding the tot and all the tools of the parenting trade almost as comfortably and confidently as anyone else – and laughing good-naturedly at the bits that go wrong. The baby giggling and smiling._

QUINN – There's loads of them. He does… changing clothes, feeding. Has a bottle holder you put over your shoulder, hold the baby in one hand, feed it with that. He’s amazing.

_She gazes at him, his whole face lit up. Like a cartoon character who's just opened a treasure chest and been illuminated by the contents._

_Smiles, and can’t help herself – leans in and hugs him._

JULIA – Oh, Johnny, I’m so pleased. You think you can do this stuff?

_He nods._

QUINN – Well if he can… I mean.. I got my other arm, it’s not great, but I can hold stuff between my elbow and my side, that’s more than he has going for him, and he’s totally happy doing it.

JULIA – Brilliant.

And I’ve been thinking. Maybe it's good you kept your house. When the tenants move out, we could keep it empty a while. Give you a bolt hole. If you need to go next door, catch up on sleep sometimes, you've got a bedroom away from the baby.

QUINN – Then you'd have to do it.

JULIA – Well, I think I can manage. And you know the other thing is, we should speak to Carmen. I don't know how busy she is these days now we don't need her for Johnny – she kept talking about retirement, but I know she LOVES babies.

She knows us, she knows you - I mean, she's already taught you how to parent one kid. I figure if your pride can take having anyone in to help us it's her. If the doctor says you shouldn’t be alone with the baby because of your seizures, or if you’re just scared to do it, she could help. She might even come and do the odd overnight if we need it.

_He sits back and looks at her. A smile threatening to break out on his face, but also some tears ready. They might actually be able to do this. A whole world is suddenly opening out in front of him. Where, before, there was just another gloomy reminder of his incapacity, there's a new life of learning to raise a child from birth._

QUINN – Shit.

Are we gonna do this?

JULIA – I think we are.

_He smiles, a tear spilling out onto his cheek._

QUINN – Yeah. I think so too.

_They hug._

 

_\----_

At this point, I decided Katy deserved her own spin-off, so if you want to read more about her arrival, skip over to [Chapter Three of Operation Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213391/chapters/37895666#workskin) (ch 1&2 are the same two chapters you've just read here). Then come back here for more Scenes from the Shore (or just read right on here for more Scenes now!)


	17. Two Worlds

_His hip, his knee, his shoulder, his head, all hurt. Floor hard beneath him. Throat is burning. Hands icy cold and damp and gritty and sticky. The hands make him jolt with fear. Cold damp hands always send him back to… somewhere over the fence. Place he doesn’t think about. Tries to stretch instead. Pain._

_Prises his eyes open. Cold stone he's on. Greasy with rain and and dirt. Can’t even be bothered to lift his head. Fuck. Woke up again. One of these days surely… one of these days he’ll do it. Manage not to wake up. All this shit will be over. Not today. Fucked it up again._

_Pushes his hand into the ground and heaves himself to half-sitting, slumps against the wall. Looks around. Seizure? Maybe. Or he’s just lost the thread again. Happens constantly. Thoughts have disappeared, memories never formed, just a thick mist and him ending up somewhere he doesn’t recognise. Doesn’t remember lying down here. Strong stench of alcohol. A sticky puddle beside him. A smashed bottle of cheap bourbon. Maybe just obliteratingly drunk. Wouldn’t have dropped it if he could help it. Seizure, then. Bourbon - is that why his fingers are sticky? Examines his hand. Blood. Dried and smeared on his fingers. More blood on the shards of glass. Deep cut between his first and second knuckle, kind of smushed closed now with clotted blood and dirt. The small remaining scrap of his brain that still has the urge to analyse, to gain clarity, puts together the broken parts into a bigger picture, works through the elements. Drunk. Had a seizure. Dropped the bottle. Hand hit the glass while he seized. One of these days he won’t wake up. One of these days it’ll finally happen and all this shit will be over._

_Nothing to do. No calls on his time. Nowhere to go or be or see. So he just sits. Time swirls in and out of his awareness. Just sits, his whole body aching. Fuck it, he lived on the ground in the desert for weeks, months. Lived on the streets when he was barely old enough to shave. He can live like this. Live until he manages not to wake up. Can’t be much longer._

_Suddenly snaps to and there’s Carrie, clean shining blonde hair in front of him, shocking amid the squalor._

CARRIE – Quinn?

_Fuck her. He tries to swat her away. No fucking way he’s going with her, heading back down the road towards life. He’s been travelling a long time now, in the direction he wants to go, towards oblivion, and he’s not letting her drag him back, undo all the progress he’s made towards the day he won’t wake up. Truth is he has no idea how long he’s been out here on his own, on the street. Could be hours, could be months._

QUINN – Fuck you.

_Tries to hit her._

_She pulls her phone out._

CARRIE – I’m getting an ambulance.

QUINN – Fuck off.

_He reaches for her phone but can’t grasp it. Reaches for her, wants to grip her face and push her away but can’t. Slumps back against the wall. The cold, damp, pulling him back to a time before, over the fence, where he won’t let himself go. Tied up, hands behind his back, on the floor, against the wall, cold, damp, so fucking thirsty. No. No. No. Bangs his head back, hard, against the wall, to jolt it onwards, away, bring it back from behind the fence. The impact makes everything spin and he retches._

CARRIE – Quinn, don’t do that. Jesus. Don’t.

_There’s an irritating, repetitive sound in the air, repeatedly demanding his attention, like a mosquito buzzing at him again and again, but he barely has attention enough for one thing let alone two. Tries to ignore it, push it into the background. Stretches and flexes his fingers, sticky with blood._

_Suddenly the hard ground beneath him turns to marshmallow. Is this it? At last, is this it, him sinking away from the world for good, ending, retreating? Please, please let it be the end. Just let it end._

_Then his head, too, is cushioned in softness. His arm still jabs the air, half reaching for Carrie’s phone, half testing the world around him, wondering what happens now, if this is him finally ending._

_The repetitive noise pushes in on him again._

– Johnny. Johnny.

_He feels sick. Maybe this isn’t so good after all._

– Johnny.

_Another sound. Another voice. Higher, softer._

– Is he OK?

– Go back to bed please, honey.

_Pause._

– GO BACK TO BED.

_Hands, cool and delicate, on his cheeks. He can’t breathe right. That’s fine, you’re dying, you don’t need to breathe._

– Breathe, Johnny, come on, take a deep breath.

_Oh fuck this, what is happening? Where the fuck am I? Why is this sidewalk so soft? Just let me die._

_Cold hands. Touching him. Is it Carrie? Where’s she gone? He shouldn’t have told her to fuck off. He's sad about that now. Maybe he’d rather die with her beside him._

_The world shudders. He doesn’t know what he can see. It’s abstract. Nothing and everything. Greyness, angles and cold._

_Carrie’s face has been replaced by Julia’s. What the fuck is happening to him?_

– It’s OK. It’s me, you’re at home. It’s Julia.

 _What? Julia? He’s hardly seen her in years, only that one time she came to visit, why’s she appearing to him like this? Is this death? His life flashing before him? Doesn’t want to go through this, just wants lights out. Please, lights out, now, just let me die._

– Can you see me? Look at me, Johnny.

_His chest hurts and his throat hurts. There’s a sudden, deafening silence, like he’s been standing next to a huge engine and it’s suddenly switched off. So silent it makes his ears ring._

_Then he hears his breath. Julia’s face still there. What the fuck is happening? He can see her talking but his brain can’t catch up with the words.  
_

_She reaches away to the side, her hands come back, holding a soft white cloth. She holds it gently to his face. It smells of her perfume. Oh God, that’s so good. That’s the smell of happiness. Maybe this is how he goes – his favourite smell in the whole world, on a soft, cloud-like piece of cotton, pressed gently to his cheek. Happiness. He inhales deeply. Leans into it._

_And the world flips. Full 180. What was dark becomes light, light becomes dark, dreams become real. He looks up._

JULIA – That’s it, honey. You’re safe. You’re safe here with me.

_He feels so real. He’s not dying. He’s…_

JULIA – You’re at home, in bed with me. I’ve got you.

_He’s…_

_He’s…_

_He’s…_

_In bed._

_She strokes his forehead, he startles at her touch._

JULIA – It’s OK. It’s OK.

_In bed with Julia. And they’re real. And they…_

_It starts to seep back, from a long, long way away. He’s in a room. In a bedroom. In his bedroom. With Julia. Who is real. This is real. This is home.  
_

_Tears spill over his cheeks._

_He tries to speak, to connect, but only sounds come out._

QUINN – I…… ahhh

JULIA – You had a bad dream.

QUINN – Not… no. Real. Was real… I… it was… 

_It was…_

_It was…_

_It was…_

_He reaches out and takes Julia’s hand. She squeezes his hand back._

JULIA – Bad one, huh?

QUINN – I….

_He looks around. Closet. Curtains. Nightstand. Quilt on the floor. Feels like he’s just been dropped here from outer space._

QUINN – Mmmmmm…..

JULIA – It’s gonna be OK, honey.

_She holds the cloth to his cheek again. His favourite smell. Julia’s perfume. Sprayed on one of Katy’s muslins, kept by the bed so she can hold it to him when he flashes back, ground him with all his senses, bring him back to the here and now. Katy. His daughter. His baby. And… that other voice – Johnny? Fuck, this is all real. He has kids. He’s with his kids, with Julia. He raises his hand to the cloth, holds it against his cheek, closes his eyes, like a small child with a blankie. Julia’s fingers through his hair._

JULIA – It’s OK. I promise.

_He opens his eyes, holds on to the cloth, but looks at Julia. Manages a whisper._

QUINN – Thank you. 

JULIA – It was different. You were different. Different dream?

QUINN – Yeah.

 _He looks around again. A dream. It was a fucking dream._

QUINN – Yeah.

_He stretches out an arm and she helps him sit up, lean on the pillows. Julia gets up, grabs the quilt, puts it back over him. He’s white as a sheet._

QUINN – Real.

JULIA – Yeah. It really had you.

_He’s trying to think, though his mind is still stuttering. **Was** that real? Once? Did it happen? Flashback or fantasy? Him, alone and dirty and sick, in the street, wanting to die, Carrie finding him? Those days are so hazy. _

_Julia holds up a glass of water to him, and he sips, raises his hand to the glass as he does. As he moves it away, notices, between his first and second knuckle, a short, thick scar. A wound. Jagged. Healed badly. Probably left dirty, not taken care of quickly enough._

_Real._

_He rests his head back on the pillows._


	18. Is your dad okay?

_Rewinding in the Shore world, to a time not long after Quinn first moved in next door. Johnny’s buddy Louis has to get used to this new neighbour who is, apparently – out of the blue – Johnny’s dad. And not much like the other dads he knows.  
_

\----

_The weekend. Julia’s at work, Quinn is next door at her place taking care of Johnny, and Louis is round to play. They’re in the yard, working at their favourite passtime, building a dirt fort. They’ve been at it a while, grown quiet, idly each digging their own holes, building walls and towers for their toy action figures to fight from._

LOUIS – Is your dad okay?

_Johnny looks up suddenly._

JOHNNY – What d’you mean?

_Louis doesn’t meet his eye. Shrugs._

_Johnny looks back down at his hole. Digs a moment longer. Talks without looking up at Louis._

JOHNNY – He got hurt. 

He was a soldier.

Some people hurt him, and it made him have a stroke.

LOUIS – What’s that?

JOHNNY – When your brain goes wrong. I think it like, bled inside his brain.

LOUIS – Ew.

JOHNNY – He was really sick when it happened. When he wasn’t here. Totally like... couldn’t do anything. Just lie in bed. But he got better. But not all the way better.

LOUIS – So why’s he walk funny, if it’s his brain that got sick?

JOHNNY – Cos your brain has to tell your body how to move. And the bit that makes his leg work, doesn’t work properly. And he can’t move his arm at all. This one.

_He lifts a hand and wriggles it._

LOUIS – That sucks.

JOHNNY – I’m allowed to touch it though.

LOUIS – Is he getting better?

_Johnny shakes his head, stares at the ground. Doesn’t like that the answer’s no, doesn’t want to say it aloud._

LOUIS – Is he OK though? He doesn’t mind?

_Johnny shrugs. The question makes him feel uncomfortable, teetering into profound sadness. He’d always taken at face value the way his dad just got on with things, explained his body like it was normal. Never occurred to Johnny he might... mind. Be upset about himself. He feels a rush of blood from his collar up his neck, and suddenly realises he’s about to cry. Turns away from Louis. Stares at the floor. Has to wipe the corner of his eye with the edge of his hand._

_There’s silence._

_Louis can see he’s said the wrong thing but doesn’t know what to say to make it right. Except to be nice._

LOUIS – He’s really cool. I like your dad.

JOHNNY – _(Whispered)_ Thanks.

LOUIS – Most people don’t have a soldier for a dad.

_Johnny nods. Sniffs._

LOUIS – He must be really brave.

_Johnny’s just about good to speak again and he likes this tack better._

JOHNNY – Yeah. And he’s really clever. Some people think he’s not because he talks slow sometimes but that’s just his brain and his mouth not working together right because of his brain injury. He thinks the same as you and me. Only cleverer, mostly. But sometimes the words just come out slower and he has to wait for them to get there.

_They dig a while longer._

_Quinn steps out into the yard from the house, coffee in hand. He’s been in the kitchen, heard their conversation drifting in through the window, tried to hold back from interrupting them, curious and then touched to hear Johnny’s explanations._

QUINN – Hey, you guys OK?

JOHNNY – Yeah.

QUINN – Johnny, I just poured you both some juice, they’re on the kitchen table, wanna go bring them out?

JOHNNY – Sure. I need to go pee.

_He jumps up and goes into the house._

QUINN – _(Sitting on the bench)_ How’s your fort? Looks pretty cool.

LOUIS – It is. Look. This guy can go in here and shoot. _(He demonstrates, putting the action figure behind a wall just the right height for him to put his arms over)_

QUINN – That _is_ cool.

You know, your snipers can lie down, too. They don’t have to stand up.

_Louis looks at him with a quizzical eyebrow._

QUINN – That way they don’t need such big walls to hide behind. Lie him flat on his belly, _(he puts his coffee on the bench and mimes holding a gun up to his eyes)_ arms out ahead of him on the ground with the gun.

_(He does)_

QUINN – Now you only gotta build a small wall for him to get behind.

LOUIS – Oh!

Cool.

QUINN – Tricks of the trade.

_Louis starts building a new, lower wall._

QUINN – And just so you know, anything you ever wanna ask about me? It’s OK to ask. I won’t mind.

_Louis looks up, mortified that he might have been overheard._

QUINN – I mean it – it’s really OK. I walk a little different, I talk a little slow. Because of my stroke. It’s not a big secret. It’s fine to talk about it and ask me about it if you’re curious.

_Louis thinks, his embarrassment eased by Quinn’s straightforwardness. But of course his curiosity ranges beyond just Quinn’s disabilities._

LOUIS – Did you fire guns when you were a soldier?

QUINN – I did. Lying down was my favorite way to do it. Out in the desert. Flat out, you’re less of a target, your gun’s steadier on the ground. Only thing is, you gotta be ready to jump right up and run like hell when the time comes.

_Louis stares at him in awe._

_Johnny comes out with two drinks._

LOUIS – Look, my snipers are all lying down, Johnny. Do it like this, let me show you.

_Quinn smirks to himself. Sips his coffee._


	19. Re-remembering

So much has changed.

There’s the obvious. Fatherhood. Domesticity. Love.

But there’s a shift in his mind, too, that he never imagined. Sometimes now, he looks around and can’t believe he was ever in the CIA. There are obvious reminders – his health the main one. But even that is the new normal. And other things have written themselves over those years of his life so powerfully that they now seem sometimes more real than the things he actually experienced. The reality of those years now seems to sit away in the shade, like a dream, desaturated, abstract, unreal.

The revelation that Julia never stopped loving him. He doesn’t try picking that apart in his mind if he can help it, because it leads down a road of immense regret. Regret that he didn’t reach out to her more in those years, that he didn’t try harder to build a bridge. That he didn’t get out sooner and go find her. That he never told her he always loved her too. He always assumed she knew. But then it turns out she assumed _he_ knew, and he didn’t, he really didn’t. The pain of regret could be immense, so he chooses not to pursue it. Kerry’s started him on the path of a regular meditation practice and thanks to that, he’s beginning to find he has, sometimes, the choice about where his thoughts go. Can, on occasions, recognise dangerous paths and turn himself voluntarily away from them. So he tries not to lean into the regret. Tries instead to focus on the thought that, right through the past decade, Julia has loved him. Uninterrupted. Somewhere out in the world, all that time, he had a corner of someone’s heart.

And she wasn’t the only one. Helen. His mom. His _entire_ _life_ , she’d been thinking of him. Wishing him well. Loving him from afar. Without even knowing who he was. How he’d turned out. What he was doing. The most unconditional love possible. And even once she’d found out what he’d done. What he’d become. She still loved him.

Then, of course, there was Johnny. The moment it really caught up with him, that he realised his past was rewriting itself, he was sat out in the yard with Johnny in the sunshine. On lawn chairs, playing cards together on a picnic table, laughing and chatting. Talking about this and that. Johnny was dealing a new hand.

 

JOHNNY – Do you remember that time I had my birthday at McDonald’s, and I ate two Big Macs, and mom didn’t tell me off?

_Quinn looks quizzically at him for a moment, head tilted on one side._

QUINN – I don’t.

JOHNNY – You remember, I had that big cake with a dinosaur on it, and Louis ate too much and when he spewed it was blue.

QUINN – I don’t. I wasn’t here then.

_Johnny looks up at him suddenly, surprised._

JOHNNY – Oh yeah! Duh.  OK, your turn to start.

_And they play._

 

Just like that.

He knows it’s not that simple. Knows Johnny’s clingy at times, protective of him in his infirmity, asks way more questions than Quinn can answer about what he did ‘when he was a soldier’. Knows there are holes there that aren’t easily repaired. But there’s also, incredibly, the ability to totally forget his absence. To re-remember. To glide lightly over the bad stuff.

And then there’s Katy. The innocent, cherished little girl, whose life doesn’t even overlap with the life of Peter Quinn. One gone, cleared away, before the other took her first breath. A tiny person who’ll never know – possibly never care – about his past. Just knows her dad as the most dependable, consistent, source of love and affection imaginable - the snuggliest person in her little world.

So much has changed.


	20. Life lessons

_Quinn lying on his bed, dressed, shoes kicked off. Mid-afternoon on Saturday, he’s been feeling rough all day, tightness and pain right down his left side. Soldiered on until Julia persuaded him to go lie down after lunch._

_But he never knows what to do when he goes to lie down. Not having to try and move about does reduce the pain, but it leaves him with nothing to distract him from it. It’s like trying to rest with someone shouting incessantly in his ear. They put a TV in the room for him to watch, but it just felt like even more noise to his already-stressed brain, so he rarely bothers. Mostly just puts some music on softly in the background and lies back, waits for some time to pass, for either the rest or the drugs to do their work._

_He’s taken no extra medication this afternoon. It’s a choice between less pain and a clear head, and when the pain is at the level of a moderate hum, rather than a screeching howl, he’d rather keep the clear head and hope it goes away with rest._

_He thinks he hears a soft knock at the door, but it’s so quiet he’s not sure. Then hears it again._

QUINN – Yeah?

_The door inches open a crack. He sees Johnny’s face in the gap, hesitant, not wanting to come in unless invited._

QUINN – Hey, bud. You OK?

_He nods._

QUINN – You coming in?

_He pushes the door open and steps in._

JOHNNY – I just wondered if you were OK.

_Quinn lifts his arm, pats the bed next to him._

QUINN – Better now you’re here. Come snuggle with me.

_Johnny grins, relieved, and leaps onto the bed beside him, realises he should be on Quinn’s right side for a proper snuggle, climbs over him and flops down beside him, rests his head on his dad’s shoulder, Quinn hugging him close._

JOHNNY – You sore?

QUINN – Yeah.

_Johnny wraps his arm right round Quinn’s chest and hugs him._

QUINN – Thank you. What’s going down with you?

JOHNNY – Not much. I’m bored.

QUINN – Me too.

JOHNNY – We should play a game.

QUINN – What d’you wanna play?

_He shrugs._

QUINN – You got that deck of cards somewhere?

JOHNNY – Mmmm yeah.

QUINN – Go fetch ‘em, let’s play something.

_Johnny runs off to his room, Quinn shimmies up in the bed, pulls up the pillows so he can sit up a little. Lifts a cushion into his lap and lifts his left arm onto it, spreads his fingers out gently. Is absent-mindedly rubbing them when Johnny comes back with the cards._

QUINN – Right. You ever played poker?

_Johnny’s eyes widen. It sounds so exciting._

JOHNNY – No.

QUINN – Great. Time to learn. Go grab that penny jar from the dresser.

\----

_Julia realises the house has fallen quiet. Katy’s napping in the downstairs bedroom, so Julia wanders about, looking for Johnny. No sign of him. Looks out of the window – not in the yard. Heads upstairs to look in his room, gets to the top of the stairs and sees the main bedroom door open. Looks in._

_They’re both on the bed. A pile of pennies each. Johnny biting his bottom lip, looking at his hand. Quinn’s cards propped up against his arm, on the cushion._

JULIA – Hey, you guys. I thought everyone had taken off, it’s so quiet.

_Quinn grins and nods at Johnny._

QUINN – Concentrating.

_Johnny finally looks up._

JOHNNY – We’re playing poker.

_Julia’s eyebrows raise and she looks at Quinn._

JULIA – Poker?

_He grins._

QUINN – Gotta teach my son the important life lessons.

JULIA – Can you even play with two people?

QUINN – Kinda. A version.

JULIA – Hm.

_She sits up on the bed beside Quinn, tucks her chin over his shoulder._

_In mock horror, nods at the pennies._

JULIA – And you’re _gambling_?

_Johnny sounds as grown up as he can, rolls his eyes._

JOHNNY – It’s _fine_ , Mom. I know what I’m doing.

_They both laugh._

JULIA – Well, OK. In _that_ case…

Who’s winning?

_Quinn grins and nods at Johnny._

QUINN – We got a card shark on our hands.

JULIA – You’re not gonna bankrupt us are you?

QUINN – I dunno, he’s pretty good, might be in danger. Hope we weren’t counting on these pennies for the family budget.

JULIA – Oh yeah, that’s Johnny’s Christmas present money, didn’t I tell you?

_He looks up, half alarmed, mostly sure she’s joking, but not quite sure._

QUINN – Ah well if he beats me I guess Christmas is cancelled, right?

JOHNNY – Shut up, you’re just kidding.

_They both grin._

_Julia snuggles down on the pillow. Closes her eyes and lets sleepiness wash over her as she listens to her boys, teaching one another the important life lessons._


	21. Back to school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With apologies to everyone whose Spanish is better than mine!

_Quinn and Julia in the kitchen._

QUINN – Hey. You reckon I could take off on Tuesday nights? Leave you home alone, get a babysitter if you’re working.

JULIA – Yeah. Don’t see why not. Why?

_He doesn’t look at her. Feels a little shy to say this. Stares at the fruit bowl, picks up an apple, rubs it with his thumb, stares at it._

QUINN – Just something I’m thinking of.

They do Spanish lessons at the community college. Thought I might go.

JULIA – iCariño! 

_She places a hand on his arm – she’s so delighted. He finally turns to look up at her and smiles._

QUINN – _(He smiles)_ I mean... I gotta finally find out what you and you and your mom are saying when you start up.

JULIA – Well, maybe we’re talking about you...

QUINN – And that’s exactly my point _(He laughs)._

JULIA – You really wanna learn Spanish? That’s so cool.

QUINN – Well... Johnny’s been learning it all this time. Katy’s gonna, I guess. Gotta set an example. 

_She winds an arm round his waist, kisses him._

JULIA – Oh, aren’t you lovely? Yeah. I think it’s a great idea. We can all sit around here chattering away.

QUINN – I dunno… might not be that good. I mean... I don’t actually know if I can now. My learning’s pretty shot. Think slow, bad memory, get confused. Bad enough getting words in my own language. Might get tired.

JULIA – Well, tell them before you start. I’m sure they have some kind of form. Additional needs, whatever. If you get that sudden fatigue thing, you can duck out. Me and Johnny can help you with your homework, help you catch up if you need it. Be great for him.

QUINN – Yeah. That’s what I figure.

JULIA – You speak other languages, right?

QUINN – Yeah. Arabic and Farsi. Little bit of Pashtu. Basic Urdu. I had some Spanish when I was in Caracas but I don’t know how much is left. Figured if I start at the beginning again, might make up for the brain soup I’m carrying round in here.

JULIA – I think you’ll manage. Try, anyway. Nothing to lose.

 _She kisses him. Seeing him want to really live again,  to explore the world and learn and grow, is damn hot._

\---- 

_Time for his first class. He feels sick. Johnny presented him with a brand new pencil case full of pens and pencils that he’d wanted to buy specially for his dad going back to school. Quinn has them in his bag, slung over his shoulder._

_Wasn’t prepared for just how much the place was going to look like a school. Long corridors, classrooms, educational posters on the walls._

_His memories of school are terrible. Always being the slightly dishevelled, neglected kid who sat at the back, kept himself to himself. Until the day one of the bullies overstepped the mark and Quinn floored him in one fell swoop, arm up his back, nearly wrenched it out the socket. Least he’d learned something in the children’s home._

_After that they left him well alone. Never picked up any friends until his natural kindness started to shine quietly through. When he noticed other kids getting bullied and went to stand, silently, shoulder to shoulder with them, watched the bullies melt away. Noticed the kids whose lunch was sorrowfully small and dropped his own candy bar on their table, said - untruthfully - he was already full. Over time, he picked up a rag tag, occasional band of friends, underdogs the lot of them, quiet and awkward. But even them, he’d kept slightly at arms length, never knowing how to let anyone closer than that._

_So, walking down a seemingly endless corridor in search of room 358, he has to remind himself he’s an adult now, in control of his life, capable of polite conversation and making friends, and – hell – allowed to just get up and leave if he wants to. This is **not** school._

\---- _  
_

_Julia’s not working this evening but they’ve got Carmen in to babysit anyway so that Julia can drop him off, collect him, drive him home in case he’s tired at the end of class._

_She’s sitting in the parking lot outside the college._ _She’s been to the store, probably almost as nervous as he was himself and wanting to do something to distract herself._

_Radio on. Flicking through her phone. He’s not texted her asking her to come early, which is something. Tries to banish from her mind an involuntary image of him having a panic attack in a corridor, sitting on a chair gasping, eyes wide, surrounded by strangers._

_There’s a tap at the window. She looks up, and there’s his face in the passenger window. She flips the door open and he leans in, grinning._

QUINN – iHola! 

JULIA – iHola, cariño! ¿Que tal?

QUINN – Bien gracias. ¿Y tu?

JULIA – iMuy bien! 

QUINN – OK, that’s it. That’s all I got.

 _She laughs._

JULIA – You got a good accent! How was it?

QUINN – Good. Good. Glad I went for beginners. Brain’s kinda… sludgy. But I remembered more than I thought. Dunno how I’ll go when I have to learn something new.

JULIA – Ah, you’ll do it. Right now you just gotta get used to it all, it’s good it’s not too hard.

_A quick kiss._

So it was OK? You didn’t feel tired, or… _(she shrugs, so many things wrapped up in that gesture – Were you shy? Lost for words? Anxious? Overwhelmed? )_ …or anything?

QUINN – Yeah. OK. I spaced out a little. Once when she was asking me a question but I guess she’d seen my form. Didn’t tell me off, just explained the question, asked again.

JULIA – Well, also, you’re an adult. She didn’t tell you off because it’s not school.

QUINN – Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think of that.

JULIA – Awesome. Well, I’m proud of you.

QUINN – Yeah, I’m kind of proud of me too.

JULIA – I got you something.

_She reaches into the back seat, comes back round, throws a bag of Mexican candy into his lap._

JULIA – Algo Mexicano…

QUINN – Oh – thanks. Gracias. 

JULIA – iDi nada! Vamonos…

_She starts the car, he opens the candy, and they drive away home, chatting and snacking and laughing._


	22. Back to school part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should really be in the middle of the previous chapter! But it popped into my head after I posted it, so thought I'd put it in a separate chapter.

_He’s received the Additional Support Needs form from the college. Felt a bit weird when he received the email, realised he was going to have to actually write this shit out. But he told himself to get a grip, downloaded it and printed off a few copies._

_Spent Katy’s nap time sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by sheets of paper, trying to work out what to write. Didn’t want to ask Julia to do it, figured he knew best himself what he needed, just had to figure out how to explain it. It was tough - self-disclosure far from his favourite topic. And though writing’s always come more naturally to him than speaking, some days it works better than others. Today, the words come in fits and starts, the jigsaw pieces don’t quite fit together no matter how much he turns them round and tries them again._

_But he does the best he can before Katy wakes up, writes it out as clearly as he can on the form – despite his motor challenges, preferring to write by hand than stare for too long at the faintly-flickering screen of a computer, try to type one-handed. Shoves the form on the shelf to run by Julia and goes off to see his little girl as she starts to wriggle and squeak in her cot._

\----

_Later, in the kitchen._

QUINN – I wrote something for this form, will you look at it? See if I make sense?

JULIA - Sure. Lemme see.

 _He hands it to her, stands earnestly, right by her as she reads it, staring at the page, like an eager kid showing his work to the teacher, anxious to know if he’s done OK._  

 

> **If you have additional support needs, please describe them below, with details of the accommodations we can provide that will help you access our teaching**
> 
> I had a stroke and I have a brain injury. Makes it harder to remember stuff and I can’t concentrate that well, sometimes get real tired out of nowhere. Also I have aphasia so I don’t remember words so good. So you might ask why I want to learn a language but I guess I like a challenge. I have epilepsy too but it’s pretty good I don’t think I’ll have a seizure but I can put a sheet in here that tells you what to do if I have a seizure and maybe you can give that to the teacher so they know in case. And I have PTSD which means sometimes anxiety gets me I don’t know if you need to know that I suppose in case I have panic. If I do just give me space and maybe hold my hand if it looks like I’m up for that. Might help.  
>  My arm is paralysed and I don’t walk so good but I don’t think you need to know that but in case. I can do stairs but if it’s a long way, an elevator would be good.
> 
> I think what accommodation I need most is just to have a kind teacher. One who can help me if it’s tough and doesn’t embarrass me if it turns out I can’t do it. I hope that’s OK.

_Julia practically melts as she reads the last section, but takes a moment to get over it, not wanting to patronise him._

JULIA - I think that’s perfect, honey.

QUINN – Sound like a fucking basket case. Long list.

JULIA - No you don’t. It’s just factual. And I think what you asked for is lovely. I mean, it’s the very least you should expect from a teacher, really. But I think it’s great.

QUINN – Should frame this and give it to Kerry. Asking for help and all that. She’d be proud.

JULIA - That’s not a bad idea!

QUINN – Where did we put my seizure plan things?

JULIA - In that blue box file on the shelf. But I have a copy on the computer. You want me to type your form out, you can send them back by email?

QUINN - Oh. Oh yeah. Could you?

 JULIA - I’ll do it now. Just gimme a minute.

 _He puts the sheet down on the table for a moment._ _Feels kind of excited – not just about starting class, but about the fact he is finally finding that telling people what’s wrong with him is OK. That they’re so keen to help there are even official forms for it. Hell, he’s probably made someone’s day by signing up, someone’s official check boxes for enrolling people with disabilities are practically singing right now._

_Smiles to himself a little. Pulls out his phone. Snaps it. He was kidding before, but hell, he actually **might** send it to Kerry. Thinks she genuinely would be pleased. She's given him a lot and he'd like her to know it's been worth it, as he gradually steps out of the shadows he brought with him into her consulting room, and starts to find his way in the world._


	23. A difficult change - Part I

_Quinn’s left arm is beginning to show signs of a contracture. It started with his wrist feeling stiffer than it used to, aching more often. Then it began to tighten, twisting inwards, his hand bending day by day a little towards the inside of his forearm. Around the same time, his elbow stiffened, and gradually his arm began to change too, becoming a little more bent than before, pulling his forearm gradually up in front of him. It’s got worse, little by little, over recent weeks, so that the lower half of his arm now lies across his lower abdomen rather than by his side, his hand bending downwards, and he can’t straighten it._

_He’s spoken to the doctor about it – talked about botox injections, a splint, or surgery. Knows he should do something about it before it gets too much worse, said he’d go away and think about the options. Has no desire to walk round with his hand twisted up onto his chest, which could happen if it goes unchecked. But he’s also happy for just a little longer to eke out the days where he doesn’t have to start every day by strapping his arm into a brace, be adding more medical appointments to his diary, or checking into hospital for surgery. For now, the pain isn’t too bad – he already takes regular pain relief and it keeps this manageable too. Compared with some of what he's dealt with it's OK - it's not unpredictable or overwhelming or going to put him in danger. And it’s not like he can use it anyway. So he’s waiting. Just a little longer. He’ll do something soon._

_But he’s walking Johnny home from school one day. When out of nowhere…_

JOHNNY – Daddy…

QUINN – Yeah?

_Quinn’s curious. He only calls him Daddy when he’s feeling sad, or vulnerable, or out of sorts._

JOHNNY – What’s wrong with your arm?

_Quinn takes a moment to work out what he means. Johnny knows he can’t move his arm, takes him a minute to realise he means the now-permanent bends in his elbow and wrist. He puts his head to one side, thinking out his answer. Johnny walks a step ahead, not looking at him._

QUINN – You mean this?

_He rests his right hand on his left forearm. It makes Johnny look round, but he only does it quickly before turning his attention back to the street ahead._

JOHNNY – Yeah.

QUINN - It’s a little stiff. The muscles and the… things… er… tendons… in my arm. Got tight. Makes my arm and my hand bend a little.

JOHNNY – Can’t you put it down like it was before?

QUINN – No. It won’t go straight now. It’s different.

JOHNNY – It looks funny.

_Huh. He’s lost for words for a moment. Is Johnny embarrassed by him suddenly? He’d assumed Johnny was impervious to embarrassment, had never seemed shy about having Quinn turn up limping to the school gates. But maybe that initial embarrassment was outweighed by the excitement of having a dad at last. Maybe this latest… fuck, this deformity, call a spade a spade, was more difficult for him._

QUINN – Yeah. It does. A little. Does it bother you?

_Johnny doesn’t look round. Shakes his head quickly in silence._

_A pause._

JOHNNY – Will it be like that forever?

QUINN – I don’t know. I might have some injections, or get a splint. If they didn’t work, I could have surgery some time.

_Johnny looks round, a worried look on his face._

JOHNNY – An operation?

QUINN – Yeah. Nothing bad. Just to make it straight again. Maybe.

JOHNNY – Will you be able to move it again if they do that?

QUINN – No. Just make it straighter. Would you prefer that?

_Johnny shrugs. They carry on walking. Quinn is desperate to say the right thing but is totally stumped. Doesn’t want to make it worse. So they walk quietly home._

\----

_Johnny’s in bed. Quinn downstairs. Julia walks past Johnny’s bedroom door, which is ajar, and hears something. Puts her head in the door. Sounds like he’s crying._

JULIA – Johnny?

_A sniff._

JULIA – You OK?

_She walks in the room._

_He sits up in the dark, looks at her, eyes wide._

JULIA – What is it, honey?

_She puts the lamp on. His eyes are red, his cheeks tear-stained._

JULIA – Oh, honey, come here. What's wrong?

_She hugs him, lets him go, holds his head gently in both her hands and looks down at him, wipes his tears with her thumbs._

JULIA – Don’t cry, sweetie, don’t cry. What is it?

_He looks down, rubs his face with the back of his hand._

JULIA – What?

Is it something at school?

_He shakes his head._

What?

JOHNNY – I don’t wanna tell you.

JULIA – Well, if it’s making you cry, I think you should tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won’t be mad. I don’t want you to be this sad. Can you tell me?

JOHNNY – I said something.

JULIA – What do you mean?

_His mouth widens as he tries to hold in tears again._

JOHNNY – I said something horrible and I wish I didn’t.

JULIA – Oh, sweetie. We all do that sometimes, it’s OK. Can you tell me what you said?

_He looks up at her, tears rolling down his cheeks. Looks at the door. Wipes his cheek again._

JOHNNY – Can you close the door?

_Now she’s even more curious._

JULIA – Sure.

_She walks over, closes the door, comes and sits back on the bed._

_When he says it, it’s in a whisper, as if he can’t bring himself to say it, he’s so ashamed._

JOHNNY – I said Daddy’s arm looked funny.

_She drops her head closer to him, she’s barely heard him._

JULIA – What was that, honey? You said?

_He looks up at her, crying_

JOHNNY – I said Daddy’s arm looked funny.

_She has to think for a minute to try and work this out._

JULIA – Daddy’s arm?

_He lifts his left arm across his abdomen for a second to show her what he means, then hurriedly puts it back down, clutching the quilt._

JULIA – Ohhh. Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he didn’t mind.

JOHNNY – It was mean. I wish I didn’t say it. I don’t want him to be sad but I said it and I’m horrible.

JULIA – Oh baby, shush. Daddy’s OK. Come here.

_She hugs him, rocks, makes comforting noises._

JULIA – Shuhh, don’t cry.

When did you say it?

JOHNNY – Today. When we were coming back from school.

JULIA – Well, he didn’t say anything to me, so I don’t think he’s upset.

JOHNNY – Maybe he’s really upset and he didn’t want to tell you I was so bad.

JULIA – Honey. Daddy’s a grown up. He doesn’t mind. He loves you, very much. He knows you’re not mean.

It’s tough sometimes. Having a dad who’s a bit different. Who has a disability. Finds it hard to move about. He knows that. I bet he understands.

Did someone say something to you at school? Are you getting teased about it?

JOHNNY – No. I just saw Jackson in my class looking at it. When he picked me up.

JULIA – Oh, well people are allowed to look.

JOHNNY – I hate it. When people look. They’ll upset Dad.

JULIA – I don’t think they will. It’s tough when people stare. But it happens. And they don’t mean anything by it. He probably just wondered what it was, so he had an extra look.

You know Dad's a soldier, right?

_He nods._

He’s really brave. He doesn’t mind when people have a look at him, or if you say he looks funny. He’s not upset with you.

JOHNNY – I feel horrible.

JULIA – Do you want to say sorry?

_He nods._

JULIA – OK. C’mon.

_She takes his hand and they walk downstairs, to where Quinn sits on the sofa, tablet out, reading the latest news from Istanbul. Might be out of the game, but he still keeps on top of what's happening in the world. Satisfied to know that, despite his sometimes clouded brain, he can usually figure out eventually what's **really** going on, behind the scenes. The stuff that never gets reported - but he recognises the ripples in the partial accounts the make the news, can step them back to source, imagine what his erstwhile colleagues are doing about it, in that other world he used to inhabit. Takes pleasure in the idle speculation now that he is safely out of the fire.  
_

_He looks up, surprised to see Johnny._

QUINN – Hey!

_He clocks the tearstained face._

QUINN – Oh, hey what’s up?

JULIA – He’s a little sad.

QUINN – C’mere.

_He sits on the sofa next to Quinn._

_Starts to cry all over again._

QUINN – Oh hey, no don’t cry, what is it?

JULIA – He feels bad about something he said.

_Quinn looks questioningly at Julia over Johnny’s head. He’s bewildered. She smiles sadly, looks down at Johnny._

JULIA – Do you wanna say sorry, Johnny?

_He nods, looks up, rubs his cheeks._

JOHNNY – I’m sorry I said your arm looks funny.

_He cries again._

QUINN – Oh... what?

_Quinn reaches out and wraps his arm around him, hugs him to his chest._

QUINN – Shush, shushhh. Hey, it’s OK, it’s OK, he rubs his back. Don’t cry. I didn’t mind. It’s OK. You don’t have to cry. Shushhhh.

_Eventually the crying subsides and he sits Johnny back up._

QUINN – Why are you so sad?

JOHNNY – I was really mean and I feel really bad, I didn’t want to be horrible to you but I was and I keep thinking about it.

QUINN – You weren’t horrible, Johnny, it’s OK.

_He looks at his arm._

QUINN – It does look kind of funny. Well, maybe not funny. It looks different though, right?

_Johnny nods._

QUINN – Words are hard. I know that most. Sometimes the wrong ones come out. Or sometimes you say what you mean and then it sounds so bad. Worse than you thought. Is that what happened?

_Johnny nods._

That happens to me too. But you’re not horrible. You didn’t make me feel sad. It does look a bit funny. I should have talked to you about it before, told you what it was. It just happened slowly and I didn’t think about it.

JOHNNY – Does it hurt?

QUINN – No. Just a little. Sometimes.

JOHNNY – Will they have to cut you up to make it better?

QUINN – Not cut me up. They’ll just look inside me, mend the bits that got bent. And that’s only if the other stuff doesn’t work first. Injections. I might not even need an operation. And even if I do, it’ll be fine.

_He hugs Johnny again._

It’s nothing to be upset about. Bodies change. We gotta look after them sometimes. Especially mine. I’ll be OK.

_He lifts his left arm with his right and moves it a little towards Johnny. Tough to move it much now it’s so tight._

It’s the same arm. It just changed shape a little.

_Johnny strokes the back of Quinn’s hand very lightly, a little scared of it. Quinn takes hold of his own hand, tries to stretch it straight, show him how it is now._

See, it’s just kind of tight. In here.

_He points at his wrist._

See if you can straighten it for me.

_Johnny takes Quinn’s left hand in both his, tries to straighten it. It actually hurts like fuck, but Quinn’s not going to show that. Tenses his abdomen muscles to distract himself from the pain._

JOHNNY – It’s hard.

QUINN – Yeah. Real tight. I’ll probably get those injections soon to help straighten it out. Might get a… like a cast, a splint, to put on it, too. But I just didn’t do it yet. I thought it might be a little uncomfortable, and it’d get in my way, and it might look even more funny than my arm does. So right now I’m keeping it as it is. I’ll do something soon.

_Johnny’s rubbing his fingers softly, affectionately, up and down the back of Quinn’s forearm._

JOHNNY – It’s OK like it is. If it doesn’t hurt.

QUINN – Thank you for saying sorry. It was really nice. But you weren’t horrible, you didn’t make me sad, I was OK. If there’s stuff about me that ever makes you sad, or worried, you can always tell me, or mom. I won’t mind. We can talk about it.

JULIA – You OK, honey? You feel a little better?

_He nods._

JULIA – So, we should go back to bed now, it’s late. You’ve got school tomorrow. You wanna glass of milk? He nods. S

_he takes his hand, takes him to the kitchen, they get a glass of milk, walk back through._

QUINN – Goodnight, buddy.

JOHNNY – Night.

_Quinn and Johnny exchange a goodnight kiss._

_Julia and Johnny go upstairs._

_Eventually, Julia comes back down again._

_Quinn looks at her eyes wide, lets out an incredibly long exhale._

QUINN – I wasn’t ready for _that_.

JULIA – Welcome to parenthood… you never will be.

Did that hurt?

_He nods, blinks a little, rubs his hand._

QUINN – Fuck, yeah.

JULIA – You want some pain relief?

QUINN – I’ll get it.

JULIA – It’s OK, stay there. Tramadol?

QUINN – Please. It’s in the cabinet. Top shelf.

JULIA – Coming right up.


End file.
